True Lies
by Xealvi
Summary: Chelsea is different. Has been ever since her parents died in a horrible car crash. Something about that day gave her a special talent, something that she keeps hidden from everyone around her. This Chelsea smokes, drinks, and changes her name to avoid her talent. Her ambition to farm brings her to Sunshine Islands. But will she be able to escape her curse when she meets a cowboy?
1. Freedom

_**Author's Note: Hey Everyone. I know you were all pushing me to continue writing this story, and I'm sorry that I deleted it from my account. However, I recently came up with a really good idea for this story, so I've decided to rewrite the whole thing. I hope you all enjoy the new spin on this story, and I look forward to reading your thoughts about it in my reviews! Happy reading!**_

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**Chapter 1 Freedom**

I've always known that I'm different. That's something I've always accepted about myself. Something that other's aren't always quite as easily able to accept.

For one, I much prefer being in the company of animals rather than other people. You see, animals don't lie-they can't. Animals always give you their undying loyalty. Humans, on the other hand, are monsters in comparison. However, I have found a few that can be bearable at times.

That's not the only reason why I'm different though. My past is another thing that segregates me from the others. When I was a little kid, both of my parents were killed. Everyone told me it was a tragic accident; that the car could have crashed into anyone. But I know better. They were murdered. Murdered by a man I'm loath to call family.

I growl and kick at the sand as I pull my black Stenson over my eyes, blocking the sun from my face. I hate him with every fiber of my being. He started my whole curse. I don't know how, but it started when he killed my parents.

That's the major thing that separates me from other people. Normal people don't walk around seeing ghosts.

The waves lap onto the sand, the dull crashing sound slipping through my every thought. Nearing the horizon line, the sun is out and glowing brightly, still managing to create a burning sensation along my back even through my black shirt. Unfortunately, there isn't any wind blowing to help cool down the burn.

I let out a deep sigh, moodily kicking the sand again. Stupid sand-it doesn't even know what real hardship is. It just sits there lazily in the sun all day long, occasionally being swept away into the cold recess of the ocean.

"Chelsea!" A sudden voice snaps me out of my sour thoughts.

"I hate that name." I mutter under my breath, not even bothering to turn my head to look at my new companion.

By the voice however, I can tell that it's Cliff. He's my only friend in this godforsaken town. My eyes trail drearily across the ocean horizon. The sight is actually quite beautiful, but I can't bring myself about to care about it. I used to love living in small towns, but this one has trapped me for far too long. This town is flooded with nightmares.

"What happened to you last night?" Cliff asks me thoughtfully as he moves to stand in front of me, his shadow falling across my eyes and blocking the sun. "Ann and I waited ages for you." Ann is Cliff's girlfriend, and even I have to admit they're really cute together.

I slip my hand into my pocket, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and ignoring Cliff's words. Popping the opening of the container, I draw a cigarette from the package, removing a lighter from my pocket at the same time. But before I can even light it up, my cigarette is stolen from me.

"Cliff." I warn him dangerously, turning my head up to look at him. "Give it back."

"Are you smoking again?" He looks at the small white cylinder in disgust, his coffee-coloured eyes examining the object with a mixture revulsion and horror.

I let out a soft sigh. I can't bring myself to scowl at my best and only friend. His brown hair falls messily into his eyes, a disappointed expression written all over his baby face. "I thought you said you quit?" He asks, a hint of frustration in his voice.

"No, I quit drinking. I never said anything about smoking." Cliff rolls his eyes at my statement, crossing his arms, his regular brown clothes easily adjusting with the movement. He gives me a look, and I nearly laugh out loud at his attempt at a hard glare.

But I give no response to his glare, and he lets out a sigh-pity flowing through that one breath. He looks at the cigarette he's holding in between his fingers. "How can you even stand this stuff? It smells horrible." His brown eyes glance down warily at me.

I shrug my shoulder, giving up on the lost cigarette and picking out another from my pack. Cliff sighs as I light it up, bringing the tip to my lips and breathing in, exhaling a puff of smoke before a soft smile graces my lips. Oh, that's better.

Cliff drops the cigarette he took from me, squishing it below his foot. "I really don't like you smoking. The drinking was bad enough."

I look up at him, a sadistic grin on my face. "You gotta admit, the smoking is better than the drinking."

He rolls his eyes. "What am I going to do with you?" He glances down at me as I let out another puff of smoke. "I never thought I would meet someone even more antisocial than I am."

I chuckle softly to myself. I'm glad I have him around. If it weren't for Cliff, I probably would have been shipped off to the loony bin by now. Hell, if Cliff knew the things I've seen, he'd willingly ship me off too.

That's one of the reasons I don't make very many friends. It's not good to get close to me; bad things happen. I don't mean for them to, but they do.

"So who was it last night?"

I let out a calm, cool puff of smoke, watching in fascination as the smoke drifts lazily away. "What makes you think I was with someone?"

Cliff squats down, his arms resting on his knees, as he looks me in the eyes. "Chelsea, you and I are best friends. You never miss a chance to hang out. In the past, the only times you've ever ditched me are when you're with someone."

I chuckle softly, my cigarette stuck between my lips. A wry grin slowly spreads its way onto my face. Glancing out at the water, I can't help but admire how the sun sparkles on the water.

"Karen." I finally utter, noticing that my cigarette is growing dangerously short. Oh yeah, there's something else different about me. Most people swing one way, but I swing both ways. I'm in the middle. I like boys, but I like girls too. Straights generally avoid me because of the whole homophobia thing, and gays tend to dislike me at times because they don't like that I can't pick a side to stand on. It's not like I can help it. I'm not lying or trying to trick anyone; I just like both.

"Oh Chelsea." Cliff sighs quietly, turning his body to glance out at the sea with me. "Rick is going to murder you."

I chuckle softly, once again thankful that Cliff doesn't give a fuck about what my sexual preference is. One of the reasons why I actually keep him as a friend. Besides, Rick is full of hot air. The most he can do is yell my ear off, and that's not very scary. I can easily take the chicken kid down.

"Really? Karen?" Cliff turns, doubt laced in his voice and expression. I chuckle, puffing a cloud of smoke away from his face. I don't blame him for not believing me-Karen's a real tough cookie. "How'd you manage that?"

Karen had actually just been in a fight with Rick, and was at the bar drinking her pain away last night. Just like me, it takes a lot of alcohol to get her drunk, so she must have been there a while. When I went there for a beer before going to meet Cliff and Ann at Mary's bookstore, she was wasted beyond belief.

"I got lucky." I chuckle softly, dropping my cigarette into the sand and squishing out the ember with the heel of my black boots. Cliff sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingertips, still balancing on his heels. I wince slightly; I know that's his sign of an oncoming headache. Although, it's rather funny if you think about it. Both Cliff and I are twenty years old, we've been friends since we were six, but I've always felt that he was a couple years older than me. He's always looking out for me.

"Chelsea, you can't go around having sex with other guy's girlfriends."

The remark shoots straight and true to a soft spot in my heart, and my lips twist downward in bitter anger. "It's not my damn fault everyone in this godforsaken town is taken Cliff." Under my breath I mutter, "Besides, she asked for it", but I think he ignores the second part.

Cliff is used to my random mood swings by now though. Friends for nearly fourteen years, how could you not be? I moved into this town with my uncle, the man I hate with my whole heart, when I was six. Cliff has been my other half since then. Funny, I don't like him in a romantic way in the slightest, but I don't know what I would have done without him. I'd go crazy that's for sure. He's that little bit of normality that I can cling to in my crazy life.

He stands up straight, picking up the two cigarettes that I had been planning on cleaning up when I left. Gently, he offers me a small smile. "Why don't you leave then?"

I take in a deep breath, leaning back and gazing out into the ocean. It's a perfectly reasonable question. One he's been asking me ever since I crossed the line from a teenager into a legal adult. But I can't give him the answer. I have to avenge their deaths before I can leave.

I fall back into the sand, letting the heat from the small grains transfer to my back, nearly burning my skin through my shirt. A sharp inhale at the sudden change in temperature makes my lips twist upwards. I love the heat. I love being warm. That's why I love sitting out in the sun. It's a reason why I want to own my own farm.

Cliff takes a step towards me, once again blocking the sun from hitting my eyes. I peel open my eyes to look at him. "You know, things get better."

I sigh, closing my eyes. It might get better. It'll get better for him that's for sure. But he doesn't suffer the way I do.

"Chelsea," He leans down, kissing my forehead. My skin tingles from the innocent touch, a reminder of how we behaved in the old days before we knew friends didn't behave like that. "I'm going to the church to meet Ann. You're welcome to come."

I shake my head, opening my eyes. "Thanks for the offer Cliff, but I think I'm going to stay here and soak up some more rays."

He chuckles softly, a smile on his lips for the first time in our conversation that afternoon. "You'd get a much better tan if you wore a swimsuit to the beach."

I let out a laugh, rolling my eyes. "Who said I wanted to get a tan?"

Cliff shakes his head, a smile still on his lips. "I'll see you later then. You know where I'll be."

"That I do." I call out as he stands up and starts walking out of the beach. His footsteps disappear, and I sit up, looking out into the ocean again. I'm going to be out there tonight. I've decided. I'm leaving tonight. I've planned this for the longest time.

The waves crash against the shore, still too far away to come close to reaching my boots. I debate drawing out another cigarette, but the time is growing late, and I've already had two today.

Then, amidst my internal debate, a pair of stomping feet begins marching towards me. I hear the angry steps on the concrete before the steps disappear into the sand. I chuckle softly to myself, feeling very much like a crazy person. Looks like someone finally ran crying to her boyfriend. She wasn't very good anyway; they never are when they're really drunk.

"How _DARE_ you!" The sandy-haired famer cries out angrily in his high-pitched voice, completely ruining the aggressive outcry. I swear that man never hit puberty.

I stand slowly and without hesitation, dramatically trying to create an edge of danger in the air to show him that I'm in control of the confrontation. Then I turn to face him, a smile tugging at my lips, showing him I'm less than bothered by his little outburst. Gently, I readjust my Stenson so it's covering my eyes.

Rick's blonde hair flails around his face, his massive glasses covering half of his face. His sleeves are rolled up, probably to keep the bird shit off his shirt. He's wearing his green overalls, and in addition to the rolled up sleeves, the feathers hanging from odd parts of his body lead me to assume he just came from tending his chickens.

The waves from the water crash behind me, their rumbling filling the silent standoff. I let out a cocky snort, my lips twisting upwards as I decide he's not worth my time. I stride forward, brushing by the angry farmer.

"Chelsea! You get back here this instant!" Rick screams at me, and I can imagine his face burning with rage, a fact I confirm a moment later when I slowly turn on my heels to face him. Suddenly he appears nervous under calm gaze, but he manages to speak up bravely. "Karen told me what happened last night."

I shrug my shoulder, my expression neutral as the sun beats down around us. "Maybe."

His eyebrows crinkle slightly, confusion begging to seep into his expression, but he forces the irritated one to stay in place. "What to you mean 'maybe'?"  
I shrug both my shoulders this time, giving him a soft smile. I feel bad for him. I really do. Girls are manipulative bitches sometimes. Especially when it suits their own agenda. "I'm sure she told you everything you wanted to hear."

"Karen told me everything!" He claims proudly, his chest puffed up and anger seeping down from his face into his body. I sigh softly. Like I said before, humans are terrible creatures. All they ever do is lie, cheat, steal… kill. I don't want to hurt Rick, but I've been down this path too many times before.

"Did she tell you how willingly she came along?" I slip my hands into the deep pockets of my jeans. Might as well get right to the point. It took Gray ages to figure out what I was trying to get at when he confronted me about a night I spent with Mary. "Did she tell you how she kept cursing your name, over and over again, as I walked her home?"

His whole body recoils with shock, horror on his face. I pity him. Rick is a nice guy; he's just got temper issues. It almost makes me feel guilty that his girlfriend was so eager to cheat on him with me.

"Did she tell you how she made the first move?" I look up into his eyes, connecting my blue eyes with his green ones. "How she begged for me?"

His jaw clenches and his fists tighten, like he's unable to believe it. Just like all the others before him. It saddens me how ignorant all these people are. "You're lying!" He splutters, glaring at me with loathing. "She wouldn't do that… you liar!"

Yeah, I'm the liar. Inwardly, I roll my eyes at the sarcasm of my inner thoughts. I will admit, I do lie every now and then. I'm not perfect either. But I lie to keep my secret safe; for my own safety. I may be the town whore, but I'm no liar. I don't lie by nature. And I hate it when people call me a liar.

My eyes flare up in anger. I take a few steps closer to him, so I'm standing right in his face. I might as well speed this up so I can get back home. Judging by the position of the sun in the sky, my escape is less than an hour away, and I still have to deal with my ghostly problem at home.

I raise my head, slipping poison into my voice as I whisper in his ear. "Did she tell you how much she enjoyed it? How much she wanted to do it again and again, and never go back to you?"

Suddenly something connects with my face, and my head goes spinning. My feet slip out of their position on the beach as I stagger backwards. Quickly catching myself before I hit the ground, I blink my eyes a few times to clear my vision. My head feels light, and I shake myself. I saw that coming. Didn't think it would be that soon, but I knew I'd eventually get punched.

I glance down to see my hat has fallen off my head. I bend down to pick it up, noticing a drop of blood on the sand. Curious, I rub my jaw with the back of my hand as I stand up with my hat back in its proper place. My search reveals that Rick punched me so hard that I have blood trickling out the side of my mouth. Damn. Didn't know the kid had it in him. Good for him. That'll help him grow confidently into a man.

A small smile tweaks my lips as the thought runs through my head. It's kind of nice to think that some small part of my misery in this town will have helped at least one person become better as a human being. I'm almost glad he hit me; not only do I kind of deserve it for being the person his girlfriend cheated on him with, but I know it will help him feel better about himself.

I look up at him, a smile still on my lips. His face is contorted in horror, like he can't believe he just punched me. Rick's eyes watch me carefully, his every limb prepared for a fight.

A mirthless laugh slips out through my lips as I smile at him. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hit you back. This time." I wink at him, turning on my heels and feeling like a lunatic.

I turn around to glance at him, noting that his face is still pale. Shaking my head, I leave the beach without another word. Not only can I not think of anything else to say to him, but also I really need to get back to my uncle. I have to finish my duty to my parents before I leave this town for good.

Besides, I know Rick won't come after me. I know that he'll go to Karen and ask her about all the things I said. She'll lie and tell him that I'm a liar. He'll believe her, feel better about himself, and the two of them will be fine and dandy. It's what happens every time. Almost every person in this town hates me now because of it. Excluding the girls that visit the bar and get drunk. Ann is the only girl that I haven't slept with in this small town, and it's purely out of respect because she's dating my best and only friend.

It's not like I try to get these girls to cheat on their boyfriends. I just… happen to be there when their relationship is at a possible breaking point. Of course, that's not my fault either. I've only recently quit, but I've been quite the drinker the past two years. Ever since it became legal for me to drink, I've been at the town bar almost every night. Being tipsy helps keep the ghosts away.

But I stopped drinking a couple months ago when I drank some bad scotch and ended up in the local hospital for almost an entire month. It scared me out of drinking. Since then, I took up smoking to help calm my nerves. I know it bothers Cliff, but I need something to keep me even moderately sane.

My black boots click on the pavement as I walk down the street. The sound is oddly harsh in the silence. The sun is dipping into the horizon, the time switching from afternoon to evening. I let out a deep breath. My escape is so close; I can practically feel it on my fingertips.

No one crosses my path as I walk by, and no one will. This is a town of habit, and everyone sits inside and eats supper at this time. It makes my job a lot easier.

As I pass the Chicken Shop, the chickens all cluck at me, rushing towards the fence. I give them a small passing smile, wishing I could brush my fingers against their soft feathers. While they may belong to a bunch of idiots, they're still sweet animals. I take in another deep breath as I turn one more corner before heading back to my uncle's farm, my finger itching for another smoke for my nerves, but I contain the urge.

Upon entering the farmyard, I glance around in search of my uncle. He's not in the field, and I somehow know that he's not tending to any of the animals. I head straight for the house, mentally going over my escape plan.

Cliff always asks me why I don't leave the town. It's because I can't leave without doing something about the ghosts that wander aimlessly around my house, stuck on earth without being able to move on. My dead parents tell me they don't want to be avenged; but they do want people to know the truth. They want people to know that my uncle purposely hired someone to crash into their car and kill them-simply to inherit the large sum of money my parents had saved in the bank.

And tonight I'm going to bring that all to light.

I take one last deep breath, and then open the door to walk into the house. It's a cozy little wooden house, and it would be rather cute if it weren't for the two ghosts floating around all the time.

"There you are." My uncle grumbles, drawing my eyes to where he sits on the couch, his feet propped up on the table, tracking mud all over the clean floor. "You took your sweet time getting back."

"Sorry Uncle." I mutter softly at him, closing the door behind me. "I lost track of time at the beach."

He rolls his eyes, waving his hand, not caring to hear my words. "Just go make supper."

I nod, walking over to the kitchen. He's not a very good uncle; of course, I would never expect him to be, what with him being a murderer and all. He puts on a good show for the rest of the town though. To them, he's a hard working farmer lovingly supporting his bitchy niece.

I reach into the fridge, having already made the meal for tonight hours ago when he was working in the fields. I've been doing a lot of reading at Mary's library the past couple months, looking as deeply into hypnotism as I can. I've figured out that there's an herb that makes people easily susceptible to hypnotism, and I've tested it on Cliff once or twice. I told him it was for fun. It actually was though; I got him to jump on a rooftop and scream out 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" to the whole town during a particularly hot day at the beach. And he didn't remember a thing about it when he snapped out of it.

I stick the dishes into the microwave, taking in a deep breath. Technically, I'm going to try and kill my uncle. Super technically though. I'm simply going to hypnotize him into writing a note that will reveal his evil towards my parents, and release me from this town. I'm also going to suggest that he commit suicide after he writes the note. Simply because of my own anger at him for taking away my life from me. But I won't be killing him. He'll do that himself. No one will be able to blame me.

The microwave beeps with the heated up supper, and funny enough, I don't feel guilty at all. I'm going to bring the truth behind my parent's deaths to light, and then I'm going to go far, far away from this town.

I bring the dishes over to the table, smiling at my uncle across the table. "I tried something new, so I hope you like it." The spices are all over the top of the dish; so he'll be under the influence of my special herb from bite one.

"Now that's more like it." He grins, stomping to his feet and striding over to the table, sitting down and chomping down on his food without so much as a thank-you. I roll my eyes, sitting down to quietly eat my own plate of harmless pasta.

I wait until he's devoured most of the meal before I speak. "Hey Uncle. Would you like to see a magic trick?"

He chuckles, and I hide a smug smile that wants to break out onto my face. My uncle will agree to almost anything when he's eating good food. "Sure, why not?"

"Alright." I reach into my pocket, taking out a small medallion. "It's hypnosis."

He snorts, leaning back in his chair. "It won't work, but feel free to try anyway."

"Good." I mutter softly, holding the chain in between my fingers as I let the pendant swing back and forth. "Keep your eyes on the pendant. Feel the constant movement flow through your body. Let your mind rest."

I glance up to see my uncle's body slowly sway in pace with the movement of the pendant, and I know I've got him in my clutches.

"Let your mind go completely blank. Submit yourself to the movement of the pendant. All that matters is the pendant, and my voice." He nods his head in understanding, his eyes glazing over.

"You feel yourself falling into a deep sleep." I mutter softly, my words gentle and light. "You feel your eyes slipping shut. You hear my voice. Nothing else matters but my voice."

His eyes slip shut, and he leans back in his chair, his breathing slight. I swallow hard. Now here comes the tricky part.

"When I snap my fingers, you will do the following: you will write a letter revealing your part in my parent's murder, and your desire to gain their money. You will also include in this letter that you release your niece Chelsea from your charge." I pause, letting the information sink into him. "Once you have finished writing this letter, put it on your person. You will then walk upstairs, close your door, and commit suicide in the quietist way possible."

I swallow. "Nod if you understand."

He nods.

I snap my fingers.

His eyes open, but they're completely glassy; the same way Cliff's had looked before he jumped on top of that rooftop when I hypnotized him all those months ago. He slowly stands, walking over to the bookshelf to grab a piece of paper.

My heart leaps up in success, and faster than I've ever moved before, I race into my room. I toss off my old clothes, pulling on a new pair of jeans, a new dark blue shirt, and a black leather jacket. I slip my black boots back on, firmly placing my Stenson back in its rightful place.

Quickly, I pick up the red suitcase I packed earlier that day, and I rush out of my room. My uncle is scribbling away on that piece of paper when I walk into the room, and I grin to myself. I'm free.

I turn my back on him, turning to where the two ghosts of my parents hover in the corner. "You guys are free now." A smile lights up my face. "Just like I am."

The dead ghost of my mother smiles at me before turning to the ghost of my father. He smiles at her, and then the two of them vanish. Without looking at my uncle, I know that he's finished writing the letter, and that he's walking upstairs. I know that someone will find him in a day or two, but by then I'll be long gone.

I leave that house forever, slamming the door in the process.

It's much darker now than it was when I walked inside that house. The sun sets really quickly this time of year. I'll need to hurry if I'm to catch my boat on time. I run back to the beach, my boots clomping on the road-the sound louder than anything I've ever heard before. My heart races with the fear that I might be caught, but no one crosses my path.

Finally, I arrive back at the beach, the waves crashing upon the shore now sound like a kitten's meow in comparison with the combined noises of my pounding heart beat, sharp breaths, and quick footsteps. Without a single look back, I jump into a boat resting against the beach dock. The Captain of the boat smiles at me, thanking me for being on time, and assuring me that we'll be arriving in the city by morning. I know he's trustworthy; Kai is always telling us about him.

I smile to myself as we speed away from the shoreline, walking below deck into one of the rooms. I place my suitcase down on the ground, climbing onto the small bed and happily closing my eyes on the past.


	2. Habits

**_A/N: And because I feel so bad about not updating for so long, and because I really like this story again, I'm going to give you a second chapter in the same day! :D Yay! I really hope you guys like it! Please review and tell me what you think!_**

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**Chapter 2 Habits**

My eyes blink sleepily as a beam of sunshine hits my eyes through the portal window. I realize the captain of the small boat is shaking me awake, and I hear him telling me that we've docked at the city. I sit up straight in my bed as he informs me that my next boat is leaving shortly.

With that information, I jump to me feet, grabbing my suitcase from where it lies on the ground. I take some money out of my pocket and hand it to him, thanking him for the voyage. I slip a little extra money in with it, bribing him not to reveal my location to anyone at Mineral Town. A smug smile rests on my lips as I pay the man, as I'm using my uncle's money to pay him. Technically it's my money anyway, because he stole it from my parents.

I fly up the stairs, jumping off the dock and rushing off into the direction the boat Captain had pointed me to. My suitcase bounces on the dock as I run, and I have to raise a hand to steady my hat to make sure it doesn't get lifted off my head by the wind.

Hundreds of people crowd the docks, and I'm forced to push and shove my way through them as I make my way towards my boat to my new life. I keep my eyes sharp, keeping an eye out for any possible ghosts someone might be dragging along with them.

The wind eggs me on, nipping at my heels as I rush along, making me feel like the wind would catch me if I jump into the air right now. The sea is joyful as I speed along, jumping up on the dock to greet me. Here the sun shines kindly on my back, a refreshing change from the harsh glare of Mineral Town.

I manage to reach my ship right before it takes off. In desperation, I jump forward, only to be stopped by a man standing at the top of the plank that attaches the ship to the dock.

"You going on the boat?" He asks, his voice bored and lazy as a pen rests in his fingers, poised above a clipboard in his hands. I nod without saying a word.

The man looks up from the small clipboard. "Name?"

"Jill." I respond without missing a beat, giving him my dead mom's name. If I'm going to start a new life, I'm going to use a new name. Plus, it'll make it harder for anyone to track down Chelsea.

He scratches the name onto his board, and after I give him some money, he finally lets me step onto the boat. Immediately, I make my way to the cabin the man assigned me to.

Beneath the deck, I find my cabin and yank to door open, plopping myself and my suitcase down on the bed. My eyes close and a funny half-laugh bubbles our of my lips. I've actually done it. I've actually escaped.

The grin on my face fades, as I suddenly think of how Cliff will feel when he wakes up this morning and finds me gone. He's going to go crazy.

Frowning slightly, I sit up in my bed, glancing around the room. The bed is a nice single with soft pink flowers covering the blankets. The walls are light beige, and the floor is covered in a rug that's only a single shade darker. There's a wooden desk in the corner and a small television set up on top of a table.

My thoughts turn back to Cliff, the frown on my face deepening. "One drink won't hurt." I mutter to myself, leaving my unopened suitcase on the bed before beginning my search of the ship for a bar. Every ship has a bar. It was to be somewhere.

After a ten minute fruitless search, I happen across a sailor who points me in the right direction. I pull my hat tighter over my eyes, thanking him before making my way over to the bar. I haven't seen a single ghost since leaving, and that's rather cheery.

Upon entering the bar, I instantly feel tons better, exhilarated to see a sign that shows that they allow smoking in this room. I sit myself down on a stool on the far edge, not noticing a man sitting right next to it.

The bartender comes over from another customer, looking a bit down in the dumps, and I feel a surge of pity shoot through me. "What can I get you?" He asks politely, reaching for a beer mug underneath the bar.

I smile at him softly; I can tell he's a good man. Something about being able to see dead people gives me an insight into the living. And judging by the tan of a ring on his finger, where no ring lies, I would imagine he's just been through a messy divorce. "May I have a scotch please?"

The bartender nods and walks off, even as a gruff voice speaks up beside me. "You sure you can handle that?"

I twist on my stool, ready to glare at whoever shot the rude comment at me, only to be stunned into silence.

The man beside me wears a black Stenson, almost identical to the hat that rests upon my very head. Glancing down, I notice his boots aren't all that different from mine either, black and made of leather. However, compared to me, he looks a lot more like a cowboy, with a black button up shirt, covered by a brown vest, and a genuine lasso at his hips.

But it's not the man's outfit that shocks me into silence. It's the woman standing behind him. Well… the ghost of the woman standing behind him. She looks at me silently, and I know she knows I can see her. She glances at the cowboy, and I instantly know that the ghost is the cowboy's mother.

I look back to the cowboy's face. His eyes are a brilliant colour of amethyst, and I feel a shiver shoot through my spine staring at them. His face is contorted with coldness, devoid of warm emotions. His hair is mesmerizing, the colour of the richest silver.

I glance back at the ghost of the woman. Ghosts don't have colour; so I couldn't compare eye colour between the two or anything. In all actuality, ghosts have a sort of bluish tinge to their appearance. However, I'm more and more sure that this ghost is his mother as I notice the similarities in their facial structure.

My eyes turn back to the cowboy, and as I eye his glass of wine, I remember his comment. "You're drinking a glass of wine. I'm the one who should me asking if you can handle that."

His eyes narrow, his face etched with irritation. "I like wine."

I snort, something about this guy rubbing me the wrong way. "So do I, but it just doesn't cut it for me."

The bartender, who's watching the two of us cautiously, puts my glass of scotch in front of me. I take one look at the pathetically small size of the drink, swallow it down in one gulp, and slam it back down on the table like they do in those movies. The bartender looks at the empty glass for a moment, but I wave my hand, telling him I don't need another. He lets out a sigh of relief, walking over to the opposite end of the bar.

I let out a deep breath as I feel the alcohol run down to my stomach. Cliff will be fine. He knows I've wanted to leave Mineral Town for the longest time. He'll be happy for me.

I twist my head to look at the cowboy with raised eyebrows, sending him a dirty look. He doesn't hesitate to return to hostility. Rolling my eyes, I reach into my pockets to pull out my cigarettes and my lighter.

"What's a city girl like you doing out here?" He questions, narrowing his eyes at me. I know he can tell we're both from the country, but he asks away.

"I ain't no city girl." I retort, ice dripping from my words, his question making my bad grammar come out. I light up a cigarette, raising it to my lips to resist the urge to yell at the ghost of his mom for raising such a rude child.

"Sure ya aren't." He replies back in a voice just as cold as he mimics my bad grammar. "That's why your hair is died that awful black, right?"

I let out a puff of smoke, refusing to let his comment bother me. Is it really that easy to tell that it's died though? My hair used to be a nice, cool brown colour, but I died it when I decided to change my name.

"Why do you care?" I shoot back at him, letting out another puff of smoke, the nicotine from the cigarette helping me calm myself down.

"Why do you care enough to change it?" He retorts, his amethyst eyes cold as ice. I glance at him, my eyes drifting over to the sad gaze on his mother's face. Do people get annoyed with me like this?

"None of your damn business." I snap at him, resolving to leave once I'm done my cigarette. I don't care if he has a ghost following him; I'm not helping her, and I'm not going to keep talking to him.

My eyes happen to catch a look on his face out of the corner of my eyes. He sips at his wine with an amused expression touching his lips and eyes.

Even though I can't help but think he looks a little attractive when he's smiling, I turn to snap at him. "You think something's funny?" His smirk vanishes, and he watches his cup expressionlessly.

"That's what I thought." I hiss at him, knowing I'm being mean, but too annoyed to particularly care. He turns back to his drink, and I glance back at the ghost, tilting my head slightly.

_Can you help me?_

I hear her soft voice, though I know that no one around can. I lift my cigarette to my lips again, trying to ignore the ghost. Although, I've found that once a ghost asks me for help, I can't say no.

_Please?_

I sigh, sticking my cigarette into the ashtray on the counter. The bartender informs me that we'll be arriving at the island soon, and I tip my hat at him, dropping a couple dollars into an empty glass jar of tips. He looks at me gratefully, and I shoot him a supportive smile, hoping that he somehow gets through his divorce.

I may not like people very much, but I have very much sympathy for those who've had hard times.

I start walking back to my cabin, knowing that the cowboy's ghost is following me. Letting out a deep sigh, I resign myself to the inevitable once I turn into an empty corridor. "What do you need help with?"

_My son._ The ghost's voice floats to my ears as I walk up to my cabin, heading inside to collect my belongings. _A robber killed me a couple years ago in our house. He found me dead on the floor, and he hasn't been able to find peace since. I'm fine now, but I can't leave without knowing my son will be okay._

I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose, adopting Cliff's habit. Tired, I drag out another cigarette, lighting it up and bringing it to my lips, not caring that I'm not supposed to smoke inside the cabin.

I pick up my suitcase, inhaling the cigarette again. "Your son is an ass."

_Please?_ I turn to look at the ghost, her face full of sorrow and concern. _You're the only one that can help me._

I sigh softly, inhaling another drag of my cigarette. "Alright. I'll try. Helping people move on is a lot more difficult than it sounds, so I can't tell you how long it can take. Some people take longer than others."

I've traveled back and forth between a couple villages, mostly Forget-Me-Not Valley and Zephyr Town to help different ghosts move on. I've found that avenging deaths are the easiest, and revealing the truth behind deaths can be the trickiest. But helping living people move on can range from easy to difficult depending on the person. And I have a feeling this cowboy will be much, much more difficult.

_Thank you._ The ghost heaves a sigh of relief, and walks with me back up to the main deck before vanishing. Dragging my suitcase behind me, I walk over to the railing. I lean my arms on the railing, closing my eyes and letting the wind blow in my face, ruffling my clothes without throwing my hat off of my head.

Suddenly, I feel a presence beside me. I glance to my side, and nearly grown out loud when I realize it's the cowboy and his ghost. He appears unconcerned that I'm standing here. I bring my cigarette up to my lips again, letting a puff of smoke float away from the boat. Does he live on the Island that I'm moving to? While that would make it more convenient for me to help his ghost, I don't really want to be neighbors with this guy.

I glance at his face, marveling at his amethyst eyes. There's something captivating about them, something almost familiar. Maybe I'm just being silly. How could a guy with amethyst eyes be familiar? But when he glances to the side, leaning against the rail and looking into the wind, I realize why there's something familiar in his eyes.

It's because I see that same haunted look whenever I look in the mirror.

We dock at the small island that came into view as I was staring at the cowboy. There are a few people waiting on the dock as we slowly float up. I swallow hard, finding it hard to hate the cowboy after seeing that look in his eyes. Maybe it won't be such a bad thing to help him move on.

The cowboy gets off the boat first, his ghost following him and passing through all the other people. One of the girls on the dock tries to greet him, but he just brushes her off. I raise an eyebrow, chuckling to myself. Now that I don't absolutely hate him, I'm finding his coldness to be rather amusing. It reminds me a little of my cryptic smiling and laughing.

I take one last drag of my cigarette before flicking it into the trash. I'm the only other passenger that gets off the boat. I know that this island isn't very populated, but I heard about the unused farm on the island a couple months ago from a newspaper ad. I'd telephoned as soon as I saw the ad, and I got the farm.

After taking in a deep breath, I walk towards the people on the dock. The first girl I turn my eyes on has baby blue eyes, and her blonde hair is tied in a lose ponytail, with two strands framing her delicate face. I'm remotely surprised by the innocence apparent in her face when I glance down to see she's wearing daisy-duke shorts paired with a light blue open shirt and tall, white boots.

She doesn't have any ghosts around her, so that's a good thing.

"You were stuck on the same boat as Vaughn? Wow, I feel bad for you." She giggles, a smile on her face.

Vaughn, eh? So that's the cowboy's name. At least I know what to address him as next time I run into him. I chuckle at the thought of how much it'll surprise him that I know his name.

The girl seems to examine me closer. "Wow. You have the same hat he does, and the same boots. Do you guys know each other or something?" Then the girl laughs, like her own idea is ridiculous. I raise an eyebrow, feeling terribly uncomfortable; she seems rather ditzy to me, and that's not attractive in the slightest.

"Oh, excuse me." She giggles, raising her hand to her mouth. "I'm Julia, and I live her with my mother Mirabelle. Vaughn is my cousin. He comes every Monday and Tuesday. You got rotten luck to come here on a Monday. He also has a brother, who should be coming here to visit sometime in the next month."

I look at her disbelievingly. The cold amethyst-eyed cowboy is related to this blue-eyed, blonde ditz? The world is a strange, strange place.

"What's your name?" She asks me gently, the same smile on her lips.

"Jill." I reply instantly. I'll never tell anyone my real name ever again; I don't want to be connected with it. I don't want my past to be connected with me ever again. I want to start over. I want to help ghosts with my ability. And I want to be happy without the guilt, or the hate.

"That's a pretty name." Julia smiles at me.

Two more people take a few steps forward. The woman speaks first. "You must be here to take care of the new farm."

I nod happily, smiling softly. She has cotton candy hair that's tied up in a braid. Her small bright ruby red lips smile up at me in kindness. The lady also wears a yellow apron over a brown dress with pink decorations.

Then the man speaks up. "Good. We need someone to take care of that old place."

He's bald, though his bushy white eyebrows and matching mustache make up for the lack of hair on his head. The old man is dressed like a farmer, with blue overalls and a red ascot. He also wears white socks and sandals. In a white-gloved hand he clutches a gnarled wooden walking stick. His professional farmer appearance makes me hug my precious leather jacket closer to my body in self-consciousness.

"You can meet people later. I'm taking you to your farm." With that, the old man whacks me on the leg with his stick.

"Ow." I roll my eyes, my voice dripping with sarcasm, even as a moment after I've spoken, my leg starts to throb from the whack.

"Move faster!" The old man orders me, and I start to march off the dock, my boots clicking against the wood. In front of me, the old man seems to totter as he walks, most likely because of his old age. Which is more than obvious from simply glancing at his appearance.

"Father!" The woman exclaims, looking at the old man with a look of clear disappointment. "You're being rude to our new neighbor."

"Yeah, stop being so mean Taro." Julia chips in, hastily approaching our trio. Those boots she wears certainly don't help her run faster.

The old man, Taro, lets out a feeble sigh, admitting defeat to the two women. "Fine, fine. Go gather the villagers at the farm you two."

The pair nods instantly, the two of them running off in opposite directions at his words. I watch the two of them disappear, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable being alone with this old man. I glance at him, but there are no ghosts around him. He just seems like a grumpy old man.

So far I don't have much of a good impression of the island. The people I've met so far are bizarre, but hopefully I'll be able to isolate myself on my farm. Maybe get a couple animals and spend all my time with them.

But as I Taro and I walk up the beach and into what I'm assuming is the main part of the Island, I can't help but admire how beautiful the scenery is.

"This island, where most of our villagers' houses are, is called Verdure Island." He then points to our left with his walking stick as we pause in the centre of a dirt road. "Down there, the bridge leads to an adjoining island called Sprout Island. More of the villagers live there."

Then Taro whirls his stick around, pointing it back down to the beach. "There's usually a small boat down by the dock. A man named Kirk runs it and he can take you to another small island near here called Meadow Island. That's where we have most of our festivals."

He taps my back with his waking stick, forcing me to turn around to face him instead of the beach. "Altogether, the Islands are called Sunshine Islands, but we're made up of a couple surrounding Islands." He tilts his head slightly at me. "You got that?"

I nod at him and he nods back in satisfaction as I pull my Stenson over my eyes. "Onward then."

Quickly I take a couple steps forward, moving into a walk before he can hit me with his gnarled cane again. Soon, we come across a bridge, and a small smile tweaks at my lips when I notice it's nice and solid as I rest my hands on the railing. As we cross over, Taro starts talking again. "Across here is another island, called Ranch Island. Basically, it's just a ranch on a small island. This is where your ranch is. Got it?"

I nod my head again, gazing out at the water flowing underneath our feet as we cross from one Island to the next. Looking up, I almost wail out in despair.

I've never seen a farm in this bad of a condition. I'm getting depressed just looking around. There's no barn, no chicken coop, and the small stable looks like it'll fall over if the wind blows too hard in the wrong direction. The house looks like it's in as bad condition as the house. If I flick a cigarette in any wrong place, the whole thing might go up in flames.

A glance at the field shows the same depressing results. Weeds, boulders, tree stumps, rocks and branches litter the whole plane. The only upside is that the field takes up the majority of the space of the island, so I'd be able to plant lots of crops. But the overall evaluation of the farm's condition makes me want to sit down and cry.

"Well, it needs a little elbow grease, but you'll have it up and running soon, I'm sure." Taro shoots me a sympathetic glance, and I can tell by his expression that he realizes how bad the condition of the farm is. I take in a deep breath, glancing around again. I've never minded hard labor before; maybe this'll be just the thing I need.

The old man pats me on the back with his walking stick before he takes a couple steps forward, leaving me standing there staring out at the farm as I realize one important fact. In order to even begin clearing out this farm, I'm going to need some tools. And I didn't bring any.

Even as I'm mentally calculating how much money it'll cost to buy some new tools, Taro speaks up. "I've done the liberty of cleaning up all my old farm tools and putting them inside a toolbox in your house. You're free to use them, they're yours now. So you can get started whenever you want."

I sigh gratefully, thankful for the provided tools. Taro escorts me inside the small house and lets me look around at where I'll be living from now on.

Sure enough, there's a toolbox right next to the door. A quick look inside brings a smile to my face as I look over the hoe, sickle, watering can, axe and hammer inside. It'll be so much easier to get started on fixing this farm up with all these tools.

I walk over to the small, creaky bed, heaving my suitcase up onto the plain sheets. I'll unpack everything later, but I take out my rucksack and throw it over my shoulder, planning on getting started as soon as possible.

There's a knock on the door, and I turn, a little surprised before I remember that Taro had asked those two women to go get the rest of the villagers. We walk out of the house, and my eyes widen when I see the mass amount of people standing there. Crap.

"Good job you two." Taro smiles at Julia and the woman with pink hair.

The old man whacks me with his walking stick again, and I grumble under my breath. I really don't like mingling with people. It's not my style. I'm much more of a loner, and I come off as kooky to most people; for good reason.

First we approach two Asian men. I can tell by their age difference and face similarities that they're father and son. Both of them are dressed in official looking uniforms with brown bandannas wrapped around their heads. They both have black hair and brown eyes. The man has a black beard.

The kid speaks up, proudly trying to imitate the stance of his father. "Hey lady." Then he flashes me a smile.

I give him a soft smile. I'm okay with children. Most children are truly innocent, and don't turn into vulgar people until they get older. Thankfully, neither of these people have ghosts hanging around them. But, generally ghosts inhabit places rather than following people. Ever since running into the cowboy though, I've been checking everyone on this island for ghosts.

Taro speaks up. "Chen and Charlie run the shop on Verdure Island. They can sell you crop seeds, so it's important you go to see them as soon as you can." I have no idea which one is Charlie and which one is Chen. Taro doesn't specify.

We take a step to the woman standing next to them. She's a rather large woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. There's a small mole by her mouth, and she smiles at me happily. She wears a large blue apron over an orange shirt, along with sensible shoes for walking and a red necklace.

"I'm Mirabelle, Julia's mother." The lady smiles kindly at me, even as I come to the same conclusion. "I run the Animal Shop on Verdure Island, so you'd best be sure to stop by once you have a barn or a coop built."

I nod, giving her a small smile, trying to be at least a little polite to these people. I'd rather not have the whole town hating my guts like Mineral Town. I can't promise that I'll talk with all these people on a regular basis, or even at all, but I think I can manage a small smile. So far, no one here seems particularly menacing or evil.

Right next to Mirabelle is her daughter, Julia. Right beside her is a pink haired boy that keeps glancing at Julia like she's the sun and he's a blind man seeing for the first time.

"This is Elliot." Taro tells me as he as we step over to meet him. "He's my grandson." I can certainly tell that he's his mother's son. He has her cotton candy hair, and it falls in a mess over his face. He wears light blue jeans rolled up at the bottom, and a dark blue shirt with suspenders. There's also a green apron tied around his waist, and huge glasses cover his face. He's pretty dorky looking, but I'm not exactly queen of the fashion police either.

The kid sticks his hand out, and I notice that he's taller than me, and probably older too. "Nice to meet you."

I nod, refusing to shake his hand until he awkwardly withdraws it. Personal rule: no physical contact. My whole body is like a magnet for the supernatural, and physical contact with any person opens up some sort of mental channel that allows me to sense anything that person might have done to harm another human being.

I pull my hat closer over my eyes, the awkwardness of the whole situation infecting my stomach, making it queasy and causing my palms to get sweaty.

Besides, if I did socialize with these people, there's a good chance they would want to become friends with me. And that would certainly lead to the obligatory friend hug. Physical contact. No thank you. When I was little, my uncle had given me a hug before I went to sleep, and I almost threw up on his shoes. Cliff is the only person I can stand to touch in any way; he's such a kind person, he's never done anything to hurt anyone.

There's a girl standing on Elliot's right with the same candy coloured hair. She's chatting gaily away with a very short man dressed in the same outfit as the Gourmet from Mineral Town.

"This is my granddaughter Natalie, and Pierre, our very own Gourmet." Taro informs me as we walk away from Elliot, leaving him to stare at Julia in worship. I don't understand how he can like a ditzy girl like that.

The man perks up first. He's short, but I can tell he's at least a year or two older than I am. "I'm Pierre, and I'm a chef." As if I couldn't tell from the introduction Taro gave him. "If you ever come across any kind of tasty ingredients, please let me now! I'm making some curry later if you want to come by."

I nod my head, not planning in the slightest to go to this man-child's house for curry of all things. Life lesson: stay away from midgets obsessed with food. Dressed in a purple gourmet outfit or not. Besides, I don't like people who talk to me like I'm stupid.

The girl nods her head at me. She wears a simple green apron with a yellow shirt and blue leggings underneath. Her boots are simple, more for comfort and durability than fashion. There's also a red bandana wrapped around her head, and her eyes are a nice chocolate brown like her brothers.

"My family does the shipping, so we'll be selling everything you ship for you." She says softly, all business. I smile softly at her, nodding my head in understanding. Natalie seems sweet; maybe I'll be able to get along with her.

Taro pushes me along to the next person and my eyes widen in shock at the build on this man. He has a couple gray hairs on the side of his head, but I have the feeling that he looks older than he really is. But he's certainly an intimidating man. His entire body is ripped with muscle, and he's slightly hunched over. A few teeth are missing from his mouth, giving him a toothy grin usually found in a child. He looks like he might have killed someone in his past, but I sense nothing malevolent about him, and there are no ghosts around.

He growls his words at me. "Name's Gannon. I do carpentering. Ask if you need any construction, new tools, wallpaper or flooring. For a certain price, I'll do almost anything."

I nod at the giant of a man. I'm not sure what his prices are, but I'll check them out sometime. I'm pretty good with my hands, so I might make some repairs myself, but I don't think I'll be able to build an entire chicken coop or a barn by myself.

"You're quite pretty. Not as pretty as me of course. You can come down to my house, and I'll give you beauty tips." A soft, childish voice catches my attention.

My head snaps down, and I instantly glare at the little girl that spoke the rude comment. She has bouncing blonde curls and aquamarine eyes. The little girl wears a frilly floral dress adorned in yellows, oranges and reds. There's also a red bow sitting on the top of her head.

"Gannon's daughter, Eliza." Taro mutters, and I chuckle softly at his tone. It doesn't appear like he has a very high opinion of her either. I'm starting to like him more and more as he moves right along to the next group of people.

The next man reminds me of a vampire, and I warily take a step backwards as I glance around for ghosts. No spirits, but I catch a self-absorbed vibe from this guy.

He has dark hair, dark eyes, sharp eyebrows and a dark mustache. He also has really pale white skin, and he's dressed like he's stuck back in the eighteenth century. There's a giant ruby ring on his gloved hand.

"Regis, President of the Mining Company. If you ever find of good gems, please come show me." Then he bows slightly and shoots me a toothy grin that reminds me of a wolf.

A girl beside him speaks up softly. "I'm Sabrina, Regis' daughter. I really like gems too."

This girl appears to be very shy by the way she starts blushing when I turn to look at her. She wears a purple dress with a pink sweater wrapped around her arms. Her hair is a sleek black and is held up by a big pink bow. Sabrina also wears round glasses that frame her deep purple eyes.

Purple eyes. Well, speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Right at the end of the line of people, a couple paces away from the crowd, stands the cowboy.

Taro and I walk over to him. "This is Vaughn, but I assume you've already met. He's the animal trader for the island, and he's here every Monday and Tuesday."

Vaughn grunts in acknowledgement, and Taro walks over to his daughter since we've reached the end of the line. I give Vaughn a curious glance. "Animals?"

"You like animals?" He turns his eyes sharply on me, the ghost of his mother floating beside him as we talk.

I'm a little surprised he doesn't say anything snappy or rude, so I answer honestly, finding it in my best interest in the course of helping his ghost. "Actually, I love animals." Then I lower my voice a bit, so no one else would overhear my next words. "They're much easier to deal with than people are."

A look of understanding and genuine surprise flashes across his face as he mutters back. "Ain't that the truth…"

Then Taro yells out to everyone gathered on my farm. "Alright everyone! Now that you've all met Jill, we best leave her to start working on her farm."

With that declaration, everyone leaves with some sort of goodbye or wish of good luck. I dip my hat slightly at everyone, and I'm vaguely amused when Vaughn and I dip our hats at each other.

Letting out a deep breath of relief now that the whole introduction ordeal is over, I slip out a cigarette and light it up, inhaling and letting out a puff of smoke. Suddenly, footsteps catch my attention.

A little miffed, I turn around, my cigarette between my fingers. Two people walk up to me, one male and one female.

"Sorry we're late. We were fishing; didn't get the memo." The man chuckles, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment, his brown eyes dancing. I'm a little surprised, as his dark skin and purple fisherman outfit reminds me of Kai from Mineral Town. I hope they're not related. That could be bad.

"I'm Denny by the way. I'm the local fisherman here. You ever need fishing tips or anything, you give me a call." He grins at me, bouncing up and down on his heels, his curly brown hair and shark tooth necklace bouncing as he gazes at the girl beside him.

She has really long glossy blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes. She's dressed in a beautiful green dress and a matching headband.

"I'm Lanna." She introduces herself cheerily. "I'm a former music idol, and I'm taking a break from my hectic life on this little island. I love to fish too. Maybe you could come with me sometime." Her voice is sweet, but underneath that I can tell she doesn't like me one bit. I narrow my eyes at her slightly. Well, news flash for you girly; I don't like you much either.

I take another drag of my cigarette, and the two of them leave my farm, walking away hand in hand. Letting out a deep breath, I turn around to face my ugly farm, the islanders on my mind as I let out another puff of smoke. They seem nice enough, but they're all whacky. I'll probably keep my distance from a majority of them, and I will not go around sleeping with all the girls in this town. Natalie seems nice enough, but none of the other girls on this island interest me.

Besides, maybe it's a good thing that I forget about love and simply focus on my job and myself.

A smile twists my lips upwards as I take another drag of my cigarette, walking into my house to grab my new axe and get to work.


	3. A Gift

_**A/N: Wow, these chapters are pretty long. That makes me really happy. I always feel bad giving you guys' short chapters, so enjoy these long chapters while they last! I really like this story, how about you guys? Please remember to review! I love hearing what you all have to say!**_

_***Trigger Warning**__*** Some parts of this chapter include descriptions of bullying and self-harm **_

**Chapter 3 A Gift**

I swing my axe over my shoulder, making the blade come down hard on the tree stump in the middle of my field. Letting out a deep breath, I lean against the axe handle, using the back of my hand to wipe the sweat from my brow.

The sun beats down on my back, burning hot even though it's halfway through autumn. I glance up at the sun, my hand shading my eyes as I squint, breathing hard.

I yank the axe out of the stump, drawing it back over my shoulder before swinging it back down on the stump. To my smug satisfaction, the stump falls apart at the final blow, and I let out a breath of air. I lick my dry lips and gently place my axe down on the ground, moving to collect the wood pieces.

I've been living on this island for about a week now, and I've spent almost all of it being an antisocial hermit. The only times I come off Ranch Island are when I make my way to Verdure Island to buy some food for supper.

I haven't spent any of the money I brought with me from Mineral Town. All of that money I stashed in a small box and hid in a loose floorboard in my house. That money I'll be saving for an emergency.

But because of that plan, I haven't saved up enough money to buy a barn yet, so I don't have any animals. I've been working at growing crops, but it's a lot harder than my uncle made it look. Begrudgingly, I have to admit he was a pretty skilled farmer. He couldn't care for animals for shit, but he could grow plants like he had a golden thumb. Most of my crops are either dead or dying. And I have no idea what I'm doing wrong.

Fortunately for my sorry ass, I found this really cool shell thing in the river a couple days ago, and it gave me enough money to ask Gannon to build me a chicken coop. I glance behind me, looking over to the other side of my farm where Gannon is diligently working away at my new coop.

I can't help smiling as I dump the pieces of wood I cut up by my house. I'm finally going to have a little animal to call my own. Gannon says he should be finished sometime today or tomorrow. I don't know how he does it, but that man is a master carpenter.

And fortunately for my sorry ass, I told Gannon about how I'm good with my hands, and he showed me how to turn the lumber sitting around on my filed into useable wood for projects. Thanks to that, I'll be able to fix up my house all by myself. That way, I won't feel like my house will collapse on me at any moment.

I roll my shoulder, stretching out my sore back. I've been cutting wood all morning, turning it into useable lumber to fix the roof on my house. Bending over, I pick up a water bottle I have sitting in the shade. Popping the lid, I drown a quarter of the cool, refreshing liquid, smacking my lips in satisfaction when I stop drinking.

I place the water back; glancing at a hammer and a bunch of nails that Gannon let me borrow. I wipe the sweat from my brow again. It's been pretty chilly the whole week I've been here, but for some reason the weather decided to turn back in time on us, giving us a summer heat in the middle of autumn.

My leather jacket lies discarded in the shade. This morning had been cool, and I had to shed the hot article of clothing when the sun started beating down. Around noon, I had to go inside and change into shorts and a tank top; otherwise I'd sweat myself into a little pool of water.

I pull on my leather gloves; glad I remembered to pack them. The gloves help protect me from getting any splinters from dealing with the wood, and I will admit, I really like how badass they look.

Glancing at the height of my house, I'm really glad that Gannon let me borrow a ladder. I'm going to have to bake the man a cake or something for how much he's helped me. And he doesn't ask questions either. Just gives me what I need as long as I promise to return it.

That's something I've found I really like about this Island. At first, I thought all the villagers were whacky. Well, they still are. And most of them have no concept of personal space, but there are a few people on the Island whom I find I actually enjoy being around. Gannon, Natalie and Taro being three of them.

I bend over, grabbing my cigarette pack from where it lies on the ground and slipping a cigarette out. I light it up, bringing it to my lips and letting out a deep breath as the wind blows in my face. God, I love living here. Away from Mineral Town, away from my uncle, away from the constant hate and ghosts. Here, I'm free to live in nature, alone without anyone judging me. Perfect.

"You sure you should be smoking?"

And there it ends.

I turn on my heels, narrowing my eyes at the newcomer and blowing out another puff of smoke in defiance of the man's words. Amethyst eyes glare at me, I remember that it's Monday, which means the sour cowboy is back on the islands. My eyes drift over to the ghost following silently behind him. And the only ghost on this entire island is back as well. Yippee.

"I can do whatever the hell I please." I growl at him, wishing I had my hat on my head. But it's discarded on the ground with my leather jacket; way too hot to wear.

Vaughn doesn't seem to have to same problem with the heat as I do. I love the heat, but I don't want to fry myself. This guy on the other hand, seems to want exactly that. He's dressed in his full cowboy outfit, and I ponder how it's possible that he's not suffocating.

"You realize that smoking isn't good for you, right?" He frowns slightly, walking a little closer.

I take a step back, narrowing my eyes at him. "A lot of things aren't good for you. But I think I'll take my chances with the smoke." Once again, in defiance of his words, I purposely bring the cigarette to my lips and take a long drag, blowing a cloud of smoke in his direction.

"Fine, kill yourself, see if I care." He rolls his eyes, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops. I roll my eyes back, putting out my cigarette, his words killing the joy I get out of smoking,

I pick up the hammer and nails, throw a plank of wood over my shoulder, and start climbing up the ladder. "If you don't care so much, why're you here?"

I rest the plank on my rooftop when I reach the top of the ladder, looking down at him with a raised eyebrow. Vaughn frowns and turns his head to the ground. I catch his lips moving but I can't hear what it is that he says.

Rolling my eyes, I set a nail in place and start to hammer the plank of wood on my roof. "You're going to have to speak up if you want me to hear you cowboy."

"Nothing." He snarls out at me, aggression thundering in his voice.

"Oooh, touchy." I snicker, hammering another corner of the plank into place. "Did you come here to see if I'm doing alright?" I glance down at him, a haughty expression clear on my face. "Does someone have a little crush on me?"

His eyes blaze at me in anger and he turns on his heels. I let out a loud roar of laughter, until I catch the pleading gaze of his mother's ghost.

"Ugh," I roll my eyes. "Vaughn, wait." He stops and turns around, and I use my hammer to nail a third edge of the plank into place.

"Hey, come closer cowboy." I smirk at him. "I don't wanna yell at you."

He takes a few steps closer to the ladder, and I quickly hammer in the fourth corner of the board into place.

Once that's secure, and I drop my hammer onto the grass before I start climbing down the ladder. My hands hold onto the rail carefully as I step down the rungs. Perhaps I spilled some water on the bottom rung earlier, maybe there was dirt on the rung that didn't agree with the bottom of my shoe, but whatever the reason is, I slip backwards on the bottom rung when my hands have already released the railing.

No sound leaves my mouth, I just start falling backwards, preparing myself to crash down on the ground. Suddenly, my body halts its motion abruptly, and my mind flashes somewhere else.

_A couple kids throw a young boy down onto the ground. The boy on the ground has silver hair, and his amethyst eyes are filled to the brim with tears. Red patches cover his knees from where he fell. The three boys standing above him snicker, taunting him. Enraged, the silver haired boy jumps to his feet, rushing at the bullies with his fists, kicking and punching his attackers, even as he gets it back threefold._

_The same boy, now a teenager, being thrown against a concrete wall by a boy with wild brown hair and an arrogant smirk on his lips. This boy winds his fist back, punching the silver haired teenager in the face. Blood spurts out of his nose as he drops to his knees when the brown haired boy punches him in the stomach. The silver haired boy rises to his feet, launching himself at the bully, punching and clawing his way to survival._

_The same teenager, now about eighteen, walks into a house, calling out and looking confused. He wanders around the house before he walks into the living room, crying out in anguish when he sees a woman lying in a pool of blood, cold dead. He wanders over to her, tears spilling down his cheeks. His mouth opens in a wordless scream._

_The silver haired teenager, now a full-grown man, sits at a bar, drinking a glass of scotch, his head hanging. A man walks by him, bumping him by accident, but doesn't apologize. Enraged, the silver haired man rises from his seat, throwing the first punch, making the man's nose bleed. The bartender grabs the silver haired man by the shoulders, throwing him out of the bar._

_A steamy room where two bodies move under the blankets of a hotel bedroom. The silver haired man gets up and dresses, leaving the woman on the bed begging him to stay._

_The silver haired man stands in a kitchen, a pot of water boiling. He removes the pot, the flame still burning. He raises a hand above the fire, letting the flame lick at his skin. A flicker of pain crosses his face, but he doesn't move his hand. After a bit, the silver haired man switches hands._

_The silver haired man sits on a couch, glaring at the man on the other end. This man also has silver hair, but his eyes are blue. The two of them are screaming at each other, yelling so aggressively that the two end up rising to their feet, spitting insults are each other, the whole argument ending up in a flurry of punches._

The images flashing through my head cease as suddenly as they began, and I feel my stomach turn over a dozen times. I drop to my knees, hurling onto the ground, gagging up the water sitting in my stomach. Groaning loudly, my body heaves, forcing me to throw up yet again.

"Whoa, are you okay?" A husky voice above me questions, concern obvious in the tone. I feel something brush against my shoulder, and I'm launched back into the images.

_A long blonde haired girl kisses the silver haired man fiercely, pushing him up against a brick wall in the back of an alley. He returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm until she whispers something against his lips, to which he stops and pushes her away. The silver haired man walks away from the girl, leaving her alone._

_A red haired girl sits at a bar next to the silver haired man, talking and smiling at him. But when she leans in a little to kiss him, he jumps and sneers at her, walking out of the bar._

_A strange man stands on the corner, pushing a teenager against a wall, talking angrily with the teen. The silver haired man walks by, stops, and walks towards the two, pushing the strange man off the teenager, giving the kid a chance to scramble away. The strange man pulls out a knife, slashing at the silver haired man as they commence a brawl._

"Don't touch me!" I scream at him, scrambling away as I wrench myself out of the flurry of images that burn into my brain, the foreign memories forever imprinted into my mind.

Vaughn's eyes widen as I bend over, clutching my stomach as my eyes squeeze shut and my body convulses, trying to throw up, but having nothing left in my stomach.

The urge to hurl finally passes, and I roll over onto my back, my chest heaving as I scrounge for a single breath of clean air. My eyes squeeze shut, trying to rid myself of the memories as they keep flashing through my mind. I can feel sweat lining my entire body, an intense reaction to the cowboy's touch.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his voice gruff and unsure. I peel my eyes open, sitting up with a groan. "I'm fine." I spit out at him, wobbly rising to my feet.

The silver haired cowboy raises an eyebrow at me, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops. "You didn't fall that far. You don't have some sort of weird case of vertigo, do you?"

"I'm fine." I hiss at him angrily as I walk past him, my stomach still queasy from the memories he unknowingly forced upon me. My hand rises to my head, gingerly touching my forehead as a pounding headache starts to throb.

"Maybe you should sit in the shade." The cowboy mutters behind me. "You've been working under the sun all day."

"Don't you tell me what to do." I snap at him, whirling around to grab my hammer to go back up the ladder. My vision seems to tilt sideways, and I plant my feet firmly in place, spreading my arms wide to balance myself.

Letting out small, shallow breaths, I slowly walk over to the shade that my house provides, sitting down with my back against the side. "Maybe a small break won't hurt." I mutter softly, begrudgingly listening to the cowboy.

"No, it wouldn't." Vaughn frowns slightly, walking over to where I sit and squatting down. He picks up my water bottle, handing it over to me. "Water wouldn't hurt either."

I angrily snatch the bottle from him, holding it close to my body as I drink the cool water. I let out a deep breath, closing my eyes and letting a soft breeze caress my face.

My eyes peel open again, and the cowboy is still squatting down in front of me, his amethyst eyes trained on me, unmoving. I frown slightly, drawing my knees to my chest and away from his vicinity. "Don't you have something better to do?"

I reach for my pack of cigarettes, desperately needing something to calm me down before I bite Vaughn's head off.

"I don't think smoking after hurling will make you feel better." The cowboy's gruff voice sounds sourly in front of me, and I sneer at him, lighting up the cigarette anyway. "You don't know how my body works; how would you know if smoking makes me feel better or not?"

He shifts so that he's no longer squatting, but sitting down in the shade in front of me. The cowboy doesn't say a word, just watches me from under that hat of his, his amethyst eyes unwavering and unnerving. I throw my head, tossing my hair over my shoulder. "What?"

"You're something."

"What's that supposed to mean?" My lips dip down in a frown at his words. My eyes glance up at the ghost floating sadly behind the cowboy, and I let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose, Cliff's habit becoming my own.

"Look, I'm sorry I teased you before. And I'm sorry I yelled at you, okay?" I snap at him, chugging down another gulp of water before I bring my cigarette to my lips and take a long drag, letting the calm wash over me.

Vaughn nods, not saying anything, his fingers playing with a blade of grass.

I roll my eyes, sitting up a little straighter and blowing out a puff of smoke. "So, what are you here for?"

He tilts his head slightly, as if he hadn't heard my words correctly, or didn't understand the meaning behind them. I roll my eyes, taking another drag of my cig and looking at him in expectance.

He shrugs his shoulders. "I came to see if Gannon was finished building your coop yet."

I throw him a look of bewilderment. "Then why the hell even talk to me? You could have gone over to Gannon, asked him for a progress report, and then left without bothering me."

Vaughn snorts, adjusting the fingerless gloves on his hands. "I never thought I would meet someone even more antisocial than I am."

Deja vú washes over me, and I tilt my head, giving the cowboy a strange look. He catches the look, sending me his own odd look. "What?"

"Nothing." I shake my head, still looking at him as though I was examining a frog in a biology class. "It's just... my best friend used to say the same thing to me all the time."

"So you have had friends before?" Vaughn chuckles, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Ha, ha, ha." I roll my eyes, my own lips being tugged into a matching smile. "Yes, I've had a friend before. Not sure if I can say the same about you."

His expression darkens instantly, and his arm goes to scratch his shoulder, blocking his body; a protective body position. "I haven't had the easiest life."

"No shit." I mutter under my breath, taking another drag before blowing a ring of smoke away. He glances at me, looking as though he caught my words. I shrug my shoulder nonchalantly. "I don't have an easy life either. I don't think many people do."

"Oh yeah?" He throws me a withering look. "What makes your life so hard?"

Well, to start, I see ghosts.

"My parents were killed in a car accident when I was six." I muter, leaning against the side of my house for support, my stomach still sloshing around.

His face falls and his eyes widen ever so slightly. Indifferently, I raise my cigarette to my lips again. Vaughn scratches the back of head neck. "Oh, hey, I'm sorry Jill. I didn't know."

"I know." I sigh softly. If only he knew the whole truth to the whole thing. If he knew my uncle had killed my parents, and that I could see ghosts. Ha. Who am I kidding? He'd tell Taro to ship me off to the loony bin.

"So, let me guess." I turn to him, blowing out a bubble of black, wispy smoke. "You were bullied for looking like a freak, yes?"

He glares softly at me. "Calling me a freak makes me feel so much better about myself." I chuckle softly, a wry grin on my lips as he shakes his head and nods. "Yeah, I was."

Even though I already know the answer, I ask anyway to keep up appearances. "So, my parents are dead. What about yours?"

Vaughn's face darkens, and I watch as his fingers gently brush against his palms. An invisible force tugs my lips downward, the memory of him burning his hands flashing through my head, and I wonder if those marks are still there.

"My dad left when I was a few years old." He turns his head, looking over to where Gannon works diligently on a coop that appears like it's almost finished. "He left my mom alone with twin boys to look after, and no word of where he went or why. I haven't seen him since I was six."

Vaughn takes in a deep breath, and I can't help but feel a flicker of pity in my heart. My eyes roll over to where the ghost of his mother floats above him, the only look on her face complete and utter sadness for her son. "And my mom was killed a couple years ago. Robber." He mutters the words, his gruff voice barely audible.

"I'm sorry." I whisper softly, and I am, even as all the incidents when he's hurt someone flash through my minds eye. That had been such a violent reaction. And the second time he touched me, I saw all new events. I don't want to find out if I'll see even more new events if he touches me again.

"Whatever." He mutters. "I'm okay with it."

I snort, letting out a brief laugh. "Obviously not."

Vaughn turns his amethyst eyes on me, anger bubbling within the dark purple recesses. "How would you know? You're not me."

"And there it seems we come to an understanding." I wave my cigarette in the air, a grin on my face. "I don't know you, and you don't know me. I won't judge you, if you won't judge me."

He snorts, a small smile tugging at his lips again. "You really are something."

"I try my best." I chortle, taking one last drag of my cigarette before putting it out and tossing it into the small trash bag I have set up for my cigarette buds.

I rise to my feet, stretching out my back. "Well, this chat has been absolutely delightful, but I'm afraid I must return to being a hermit and continue working on my house so it doesn't blow over."

Walking over to pick up a couple more boards, nails and my hammer, Vaughn stands up behind me. "Would you like some help?"

I turn on him, both of my eyebrows raised. "Don't you have a job to do?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I'm done for the day. Well," He pauses, glancing over at Gannon again. "At least until Gannon is done working over there."

I shrug my shoulders, turning my back on him. "I don't know what you'd be able to do. Besides, I think I've got it handled."

"Yeah, that's how you fell off that ladder so easily, right?" His words are spoken just as I'm about to climb up the very same ladder.

I roll my eyes, stepping up on the ladder and climbing to the top. "I was doing fine until you came along."

Vaughn rolls his eyes, his hands steading the ladder as I climb up to place the boards on the roof I'm working on. "Oh, I don't doubt it."

I hear the sarcasm in his voice and roll my eyes, holding a couple nails between my teeth as I start to nail down another board on the roof. If I can finish the roof by tonight, then the chances that the forecasted rain for the tonight won't get in my house will go down, and I'll be able to sleep dry. And then I'll work on reinforcing my walls, or perhaps expanding my house to a less pathetically small size.

"Jill," I hear Gannon's rough voice, and I glance down to see him standing underneath my ladder. "I finished building your coop. It's all set. Make sure you check it out sometime."

He starts to walk away, and I take the nails out of my mouth. "Thanks Gannon." He waves in response, and I smile to myself, turning back to the roof, resolving to finish these three pieces before I go check out the coop.

Vaughn doesn't say anything below me, and for that I'm thankful. Peacefully, I hammer the last few boards into place, avoiding slivers and not hammering my thumb once. Finished, I survey my handiwork, rather proud of how the roof looks. A smug look on my face, I drop the hammer back down onto the ground, climbing down the ladder.

Back on the ground, I turn to Vaughn, but I blink in surprise when I realize that the cowboy is no longer there. I shrug my shoulder, throwing the issue out of my mind. I've done my bit for the week.

More than my bit. I rub my forehead. Good grief boy, can you get into one more fistfight? Please? I'd love to have all those bloody noses in my head.

I'm almost glad that when I see those flashes from people I don't hear any sound. Just watching is bad enough, but if I had to hear every heart-wrenching sob, and every venom tossed insult, I would probably check myself into a loony bin.

I walk over to the chicken coop, wiping sweat from my brow, looking forward to jump into a nice, cold shower and wash all this dirt away. Mentally, I make a note to myself to never, ever touch Vaughn again.

I reach the chicken coop, excitement bubbling inside me as I open the doors, striding proudly inside. My breath is stolen from me as I glance around Gannon's beautiful handiwork.

The inside of the coop is absolutely stunning. The roof is clean and secure, and the walls are steady, the clean wood very appealing to the eye. The ground is all dirt, except for two rectangle areas where I can place chicken feed. There are two little ringlets of hay for chickens to rest on, and a container on the side of the coop to hold chicken feed.

My lips break out into a wide grin. This is so much better than I had hoped for. This coop is a thousand times better than the one on my uncle's farm. I'm really going to have to thank Gannon somehow. Asking him to build this is so worth it. Just looking around makes me want to commission him to build me a barn.

"Gannon really does his job well."

I turn around, glancing at the cowboy standing in the entrance of my coop, holding a baby chicken in his hands. I restrain myself from uttering a cry of 'awwwww' from the cuteness of the animal as Vaughn walks into the coop, closing the door behind him.

"I've noticed that most people are really passionate about one thing, and they tend to do that thing really well." He smiles down at the baby chicken, gently brushing his fingers against her soft down. "Gannon's thing is carpentry."

Vaughn looks up at me from under his hat, his amethyst eyes almost soft as he smiles at me with the baby chicken in his hands. "I think your thing is animals."

He takes a couple steps towards me so that he's standing right in front of me, and I feel frozen in place, dreadfully aware of how close his arm is to touching mine, but unable to take a step back. My heart pounds in my chest, as I look up into his eyes, something captivating about them. My eyes trial over his face, and I have to admit, his ruggedness is very attractive.

For a moment, but only a moment, I feel butterflies flying around in my stomach.

Then I glance over his shoulder and catch sight of the ghost of his mother. The sight breaks my little trance, and I take a couple steps away from Vaughn. His eyes follow me, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he bends down and places the chicken down on the ground. The little chick looks around, a little confused, before it steps over to me.

I bend down, picking up the soft ball of downy fluff in my hands, a grin spreading across my face. Vaughn chuckles softly. "That's for you."

"For me?" I look up from the chicken, tossing him a look of confusion. "But I didn't buy a chicken."

His eyes look down at the baby chick before they move up to my own eyes, holding my gaze. "Think of it as a gift." His lips twist in a half-smile, and he turns on his feet, his gaze still on me. "You seem different to me." He pauses, the smile almost reaching his eyes, but not quite reaching. "I think you'll be able to take good care of this farm."

I watch as he walks over to the door, and I stay silent, stroking the baby chicken. Vaughn pauses, a hand on the door and his back to me. "Don't prove me wrong."

He's about to exit, when I hear words tumbling out of my mouth. "And what's your thing?"

Vaughn turns, a slight smile on his lips as his eyes lock with mine. "Try and find out."

He leaves the coop, and I smile down at the baby chicken, kissing the top of its head. "You know, I think I might be able to help that grumpy cowboy after all."


	4. A Letter

_**A/N: Yay, another update! Wooo! I feel productive! Gosh, this chapter was fun to write. I hope you all like it! Please review and tell me what you think! I really appreciate it, and your reviews give me the fuel I need to keep writing! Love you all!**_

_***Warning**__*** More descriptions of self-harm. You don't need to hurt yourself; there is always someone who cares and will help you.**_

**Chapter 4 A Letter**

I wrap my jacket around my shoulders, walking over to my brand new chicken coop to feed my new baby chick before I start work for the day. A breeze blows through the farm, tossing a few stray hairs around my face. The weather certainly has turned around from yesterday, that's for sure. It looks much closer to raining than the overbearing sunlight from yesterday.

I open the coop, letting the warmth seep into my bones as I shut the door behind me. A smile flits across my face; delight throbbing in my heart over how much I absolutely adore this little coop Gannon built me. It is so worth the money.

A small chirping draws my attention to the baby chicken waddling up to me. Chuckling, I bend down, picking the chick up in my hands and softly petting its downy fur with my fingertips.

"Good morning youngin'." I smile, looking into the small black eyes of the chick before setting it back down on the ground. "How'd you sleep last night?"

The chick chirps, and I chuckle to myself, striding over to the container of feed. "Well, that's good. I'm glad you slept well." My lips twist down as I pick up some feed in my hand, spreading it out over the feeding space. "I didn't sleep too well."

My new chick rushes over to the food, pecking away madly and chirping happily. Still holding a hand full of feed, I sit down beside the feeding space, the back of my hand resting against the ground. My chick is drawn by the abundance of food, and hops over to my hand. She tests the food, and then hops up into my hand, eating away.

My eyes still locked onto my chicken, I bite my bottom lip. "I had a nightmare last night." My chick looks right up at me, tilting its small little head. I shake my head. "No, I don't remember what it was about."

I lean back, supporting myself with my free hand. "I just shot up in bed, screaming. I was all tangled up in my sheets, and drenched with sweat." I let out a sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Thank goodness I have a shower installed in my house."

Chirping, my chick pecks up the last few grains of feed in my hand, and then hops off, strutting proudly around the coop. I snort, shaking my head. "Well, at least you listened until you finished your food."

I vault myself back up to my feet by pushing off the ground with my hands, wiping the dust off my palms when I'm steady. "I'd put you outside and let you graze, but I want to build a little fence for you first." I glance at my happily chirping chick. "Wouldn't want you to run off on me, now would I?"

Chuckling to myself, I walk up to the door, pulling my leather jacket closer around my body in preparation for the cold wind that I know will strike me. I turn my head, glancing back at my baby chick. "I'll see you later Hatter."

Leaving with the bird chirping at my back, I close the coop behind me, the bitter wind picking up tempo once I emerge from the warm indoors. I zip my jacket up, rubbing my hands against my arms and pulling my gloves out of my pocket. Quickly, I slip them onto my hand, thankful it's not winter yet. Looking up at the dark sky, I can't help but think that this winter won't be very friendly.

I shrug my shoulders. Whatever. I don't need to worry about that. Right now, I need to worry about insulating my house so I don't freeze to death; no matter what the weather decides to whip up for me.

Striding over to my shack of a house, I pick up my axe from where it leans against the door, hoisting it up over my shoulder as I head back to my field to cut up some more wood.

The sky darkens around me as I work, keeping my own body warm as I move around, working out my muscles as I chop through the wood that lies scattered around the fields. I growl at the sky as it steadily turns darker and darker. If it storms, I swear I'll punch someone. I've spent the past week trying to clear this field of all the wood and rocks in order to plant some grass to make a grazing field. Having new stones and sticks strewn across my field doesn't exactly sound like a hay day.

I pick up an armful of lumber, carrying it over to a sectioned off area by my house where I'm storing wood. I've got a blue tarp draped over the wood, held in place by hooks dug into the ground. I shove the new wood under the tarp, letting out a puff of air from the exertion. I pause.

Standing up straight, I open my mouth and blow out another breath of air. Sure enough, I can see my breath in front of my face, the gas condensing in front of my eyes.

I rub my hands up and down my arms. It's colder out here than I thought. Cutting up all that wood warmed me up, but now that I'm standing still, I can feel the vicious chill of the wind trying to tear through my clothes. I trudge back to my axe, aiming to keep working as long as there's no rain.

Swinging my axe over my shoulder, the blade chops a branch in two. I let out another puff of breath, watching as it dances in front of my eyes before fading away. Shaking my head, I pick up my axe again. But before I can swing the blade down again, something drifts in front of my eyes and causes me to pause again in my work.

A feather floats down from the sky, falling down onto the branch I'm just about to cut into two. Captivated, I pick up the reddish feather, smiling softly. The feather reminds me of Cliff. He loves birds and animals of all sorts. I remember when he showed me his feather collection. Chuckling at the memory, I turn the feather in my fingers, gazing at the delicate parts of the feather.

Hm. I wonder how Cliff is doing. Still turning the feather in my hands, I frown slightly to myself. I did leave without saying goodbye... that's rather rude; even for me. I could write him a letter...

Huh, a letter. Why didn't I think of that? Cliff loves getting mail. I slip the feather into my pocket, picking up the last couple pieces of wood I've chopped up and hauling them over to the others. I wonder who in town has some paper I could have? I didn't bring any. Why would I?

I could go to Chen's store, but I was there earlier this week, and the only thing they sell there are seeds and tools. No paper. Maybe Natalie will have some I can have.

I toss the wood under the tarp, the dark clouds looking more and more ominous as the seconds tick away. I pick up my axe and take it inside, throwing it in the toolbox with the rest of my tools. Tugging my jacket closer to my body, I start the trek to Verdure Island.

As I'm walking across the bridge, I feel something wet land on my nose. Instantly, I glance up at the clouds, their dark and threatening presence making me very suspicious of their guilt. I hold out my hand, and when a splat of rain falls in my glove, I know that it's going to start raining.

But I don't start running to quickly arrive at my destination. I like the rain. Very soon, there's a roar of thunder and rain starts pouring down from the heavens above. I have no hood on my jacket, but I wouldn't put it up if I did. The water falls from the sky, splattering onto my nose and cheeks, the wet touch making a chill shoot through my spine. Instantly, my hair becomes soaked, the wet strands clinging to my face like a life raft.

Slipping my hands into my pockets, I walk across that bridge with an idiotic smile on my face.

I yank open the door to Natalie's house, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me. I stand on the welcome matt, dripping wet. I would step further into the house, but I don't want to track water and mud all over their floor.

"Jill?" I hear Taro's voice before he hobbles over to where I'm standing. "What're you doing here? My tricky knee is telling me there's going to be a storm soon."

I let out a curt laugh, taking a clump of hair and squeezing the water out of it. "Soon, as in, right now. It's pouring rain out there gramps."

He grunts, squinting at me. "Whadda want?"

"I came to see if you had any paper I could have."

"We don't have any paper here." Taro shakes his head. "At least, I don't. My grandson or granddaughter might, but Natalie is over at Pierre's and Elliot is over at Julia's." He pauses for a moment, thinking. "But I'm pretty sure Julia has paper. She's always writing letters to friends of hers on the mainland."

I nod at him. "Thanks." And I rush out into the pouring rain before he can say another word.

The water pounds against my skin, the wind whipping my hair around my face as I squint to try and see through the flurry of rain. My feet trudge through the dirt roads, roads that are quickly becoming mud roads. The mud sticks to my boots, and I'm momentarily thankful that I decided to wear rain boots this morning when I woke up. Yay for being a good judge of the clouds!

By the time I manage to trudge my way to the door of the Animal Shop, my limbs are shaking against my will from the cold. A cup of hot chocolate sounds really good right about now. I open the door, quickly stepping inside and shutting the door behind me so the rain doesn't flood inside.

I rub my boots on the welcome matt, looking up when I hear a gruff voice call my name. "Jill?"

My eyes latch onto amethyst orbs and glare slightly. I forgot, he doesn't leave until the end of today. Inwardly I groan; talking to the cowboy is not something I have on my to do list for today.

"Vaughn." I give him a similar reply, slipping my feet out of my boots and placing them on next to the matt. Might as well stay a while and try to work on helping the cowboy deal with his ghost problem.

I slip off my jacket, hanging the dripping piece of clothing up on a hanger next to the door, leaving me wearing my soaking jeans and an only moderately soaked dark gray t-shirt. I walk over to where he's leaning against the counter of their kitchen, my soft blue socks padding against the hard wood floor. "Have you noticed it's raining?"

He looks at me like I'm an idiot, but I just grin at him, knowing that I must look stupid standing here dripping wet. Vaughn rolls his eyes at me. "You realize that it's practically a thunderstorm out there, right?"

I nod. "Yep. It's delightful isn't it?"

Vaughn looks at me again and pulls his Stenson over his eyes. I'd left mine at home, not wanting the rain to wreck it. "What do you want?"

"I came to see if you guys have any paper I can have."

"Paper?" He asks, snorting in disbelief. "You're weird."

Vaughn stands up straighter, walking around the counter to pull out a drawer. Carefully, he draws out a couple sheets of paper and hands them out to me. Smiling, I take them from his hands. "Thanks." I pause, placing the paper down on the counter. "Do you think I could borrow a pencil too?"

I glance up, and he's holding out a pencil for me. Delighted, I take the pencil from him, a smile gracing my lips. "Thank you."

"What do you want the paper for?" He asks, closing the drawer and leaning against the counter, on the opposite side of which I stand.

"Curiosity killed the cat." I chuckle softly, the pencil poised in between my fingertips even though I don't start writing.

He shrugs. "Fine, don't tell me. I don't care." I laugh again, my eyes tracing over his face. "You've said that before. Are you trying to convince me, or yourself that you don't care?"

Vaughn rolls his eyes, pulling his Stenson further over his eyes. Without saying a word, he pushes himself off the counter and walks out of the room, leaving me alone with my paper. Chuckling to myself, I turn to write my letter before I go and talk to the cowboy again.

_Dear Cliff_

_ Bright side, I'm still alive. So stop worrying Cliff; I know you. I bet you haven't stopped worrying. Calm down, you'll get a permanent worry line in your forehead. I doubt Ann will find that very attractive._

_ I'm fine. I've finally left Mineral Town, so how could it be worse, right? Sadly, I can't reveal to you where I am; I don't want anyone finding me. Personal reasons. However, when you write a return letter, just give it to the boat driver who gave this to you; he'll make sure the letter gets to me._

_ It's pretty cool here though. I've got a whole farm all to myself! I've even got a little baby chick all to myself. She's so cute! I can't wait to get some more animals! I've found I'm not very good at growing crops, but I assume I'll get better. But I still want some more animals._

_ Money is a little tight, but don't worry. I'll be fine. I've still got enough money to buy a pack of cigarettes, so it's not that bad. _

_ So how're you? Anything exciting happen in the past week I've been gone? You'd better not have gotten married without telling me! You know I want to attend that! And your bachelor party if you plan on having that! _

_ The people here are pretty funky; but I'm going to _try_ and be nicer than I was in Mineral Town. Aren't you proud of me for that? There is this one weird character here; his name is Vaughn and he's the animal trader for the Island I'm on. He's only here twice a week, but it's a little weird. He's silent, anti-social, and rude, but he really likes animals. He rubs me the wrong way, but at the same time… I like talking to him. He's fun to tease._

_ Whatever. Make sure you write back! I even found you a little trinket for your collection, so I'd best receive a thank-you in response!_

_ Miss you_

_ Chelsea_

I pause for a moment before I sign my name, deciding to sign my real name when writing Cliff. He doesn't know about what I've changed my name to. That… and I'll always be Chelsea to him.

I slip the feather I found out of my pocket and press it against the paper before I fold it up. I walk around the counter, opening the same drawer Vaughn had earlier to find an envelope.

Upon finding the envelope, I slip my letter and feather inside, licking the envelope shut. Carefully, I print Cliff's name on the envelope, writing his address underneath.

A small smile on my lips, I slip the letter into my back pocket, planning on giving it to Kirk once I finish talking to Vaughn.

Taking in a deep breath, I walk down the hall, slipping out of the main room of the house to search for Vaughn. He can't have disappeared from the vicinity, and I really ought to start making some sort of progress. Seeing as though going back to my farm and working is pretty much out of the question now.

I knock on the first door that I find. There's no response, so I slowly open the door, peeking inside. A smug smile crossing my face, I open the door wider, leaning against the doorframe. "Lazy much?"

Vaughn turns his head from where he's lying down on a bed in the room. The first thing I notice after he glares at me is that his hat is actually off his head. It's sitting on a desk on the other side of the room. His silver hair spills from his head, crossing over his eyes until he sits up and brushes the strands of hair behind his ears.

"What do you want?" His eyes narrow at me, his lips twisted down in a frown.

I shrug, a coy grin on my own lips. "What? Don't enjoy conversation?"

"As a matter of fact... no, I don't." He rolls his eyes at me, drawing one leg up to rest the sole of his shoe against the rail of the bed.

Chuckling softly to myself, I respond. "That's cool, I don't either. I just figured I might as well thank you for the chick you gave me yesterday."

I watch as his lips change from a frown to an almost smile. "You like her?"

"Oh I love her." I smile, taking a step into his room and closing the door behind me. "She's so adorable."

He snorts. "Just curious... but what did you name her?"

"You know, I said earlier, curiosity killed the cat." I chuckle softly. "But since you're not a cat, I'll tell you. I named her Hatter."

"Hatter?" He raises an eyebrow at me.

I nod in response. "Yeah, as in, The Mad Hatter? From Alice in Wonderland? It's one of my favourite stories." I tilt my head slightly, my eyes flitting over his face. "Or... you could take it in a different manor. I could call you Hatter because you always wear a hat."

He rolls his eyes, and I smile. "Seriously, I'm really thankful for the chick. She's precious."

"Well, I'm glad you like her." Vaughn smiles softly at me. "I really think you'll be good with animals."

I step a little closer, leaning against his desk. "You know, I think I have your thing figured out." He raises an eyebrow, so I elaborate. "Yesterday, you said that there's one thing that people have a passion for that they do really well. You said Gannon's is carpentry, and mine is animals."

He doesn't speak, and I continue. "I think yours is being a mysterious and antisocial cowboy." Vaughn rolls his eyes, and I laugh. "Or it could be animals. You know, it could go either way."

"You're weird." I smile at his comment, pulling out my pack of cigarettes from my pocket, sorting through them to look for a dry one. When I finally find one, I take it out, slipping the pack away.

"You don't mind if I smoke, do you?" I ask him, taking out my lighter.

"Actually, I do mind." Just before I light up my cig, I hear his words and I flip my lighter shut. I slip the lighter and my cigarette back into my pocket, shrugging my shoulders. "You don't like smoke?"

Vaughn shakes his head. "No, I don't. I don't like the smell."

"You ever try it?"

"Smoking?" He raises an eyebrow. "Yes I have actually. And I didn't like it."

I nod my head. "To each their own."

"So," He starts, jerking his head towards me. "Who's the letter for?"

I chuckle, shaking my head and tucking a strand of wet hair behind my ear. "Little nosy aren't ya?"

He doesn't say anything, so I shrug my shoulders. "It's for my best friend."

Vaughn nods, but doesn't say anything else. We lapse into a bit of an awkward silence, and I shift my weight from foot to foot. The ghost of his mother floats right behind Vaughn, watching the two of us carefully. How exactly am I supposed to bring her up? I suppose bluntness works the best. It's certainly the most efficient.

"You miss your mother?" I ask softly, my eyes searching his. I watch as his jaw tightens and he swallows hard, his eyes avoiding mine.

"Yeah, I miss her."

I watch him carefully, my eyes tracing over his features. He's not that bad looking honestly. And obviously I'm not the only one who thinks so if those flashbacks of his I say yesterday are anything to go by.

"You know she's in a better place now, right?" I say the words softly, careful not to upset him.

Vaughn runs a hand through his hair, sighing. "I know, I know. I just... I could have stopped it."

I raise an eyebrow, looking at him in curiosity. "You can't prevent death. It comes around to everyone."

He turns and glares at me. "My mom was home alone that day. My brother was out. She asked me if I wanted to stay home and bake some cookies with her for the afternoon. I refused, and instead went out to the bar for a drink. I came back, and she was dead." His eyes burn with anger and self-loathing. "How is none of that my fault?"

I swallow hard, biting my bottom lip. "It's not." I mutter softly, looking up at him with pain searing my heart. "You think it is though. You go through all that self-loathing, doing anything to numb the pain, numb the guilt."

I wrap my arms around myself, knowing he's staring at me. "You feel like you could have prevented it. If you'd changed one thing, maybe they'd still be alive." I swallow again, turning to look at him.

"My parents died in a car crash. That day, I was frightened beyond belief." Because a ghost had visited me in the middle of the night, warning me of the treason my uncle was going to commit. That ghost had been a banker who was killed when someone working for my uncle shot him. "My parents couldn't understand what it was that I was so frightened of. They thought I was sick and hallucinating."

I swallow hard, grief washing over me. "They left the house. They told me they'd go get some help. If I'd begged them a little more to stay home with me, they might still be alive." I stand up straight, looking him straight in the eye. "But they're not. They're dead. Squished into little pieces by the semi truck that ran through a red light to crash into their car. They're not coming back."

I take in a deep breath, calming myself down. "Your mom's not coming back either. But it's not your fault. The same way my parent's death isn't my fault."

Vaughn stands, a sad look in his eyes. "I'm sorry about your parents." I nod, swallowing as he continues speaking. "I realize that my mom isn't coming back. I just wish... I wish there was some sort of way for me to do something to avenge her."

I close my eyes. I understand that need more than anyone. That need to do something to avenge the killing. To make it right. Because it's not fair. It's not fair to have your parents stripped away from you when you're starting life. Goddamn I need a cigarette.

"I don't think she'd want you to avenge her." I look over at Vaughn, noticing just how tall he is. His eyes look down at me, completely expressionless. "I think she would want you to accept her death and move on in your life. Stop blaming yourself and live for once."

He sighs softly. "I know, I know. I just..." He looks carefully at me, his eyes boring straight into mine. "I don't want to let go."

Ugh, keep going in circles here. At this point, the only way I'm going to help him is if I manage to stumble across his killer. I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "

"I know you don't. But... you have to try." I snort, a soft smile crossing my lips. "Otherwise you'll end up like me."

I snort again, rolling my eyes. "Bitter and alone."

I glance back at him, and catch something in his eyes. I give him a weird look, but he takes a step closer, not saying anything. I stare at him, my eyes caught on his. Now if he would just smile, he'd be pretty sexy.

"Jill," He starts, taking another step closer to me. It's at this point I realize that I'm leaning against his desk, my back mere inches away from the wall. I can't exactly move away from him right now. I step back slightly, my back fully pressed against the wall, my eyes wide and staring straight into his. "You don't have to be alone."

What does he mean by that...?

Before I can even comprehend what he's doing, Vaughn leans forward and presses his lips against mine.

_A silver haired man stands in a kitchen, a pot of water boiling. He removes the pot, the flame still burning. He raises a hand above the fire, letting the flame lick at his skin. A flicker of pain crosses his face, but he doesn't move his hand. After a bit, the silver haired man switches hands._

His lips are firm on mine, and my eyes close in response to his touch. His hands reach up to press against my cheeks, holding my face in his hands.

_Vaughn stands in an alleyway, a cigarette burning in his hands. The tip glows with the embers before he drops the cigarette, squishing it below his boots. He takes out his lighter, flipping the lid off so the little flame bursts to life. He slips off a glove, his palms burned and scarred. The silver haired man brings the flame to his hands, leaning his head against the wall as the flame licks against his skin._

He kisses me powerfully, my head spinning between the flashbacks and reality. His lips are warm, and mine are ever so cold.

"Take your gloves off." I whisper softly against his lips.

_A teenager with silver hair and amethyst eyes walks into a house, the smell of burning cookies attacking his nose. He rushes straight to the kitchen, taking the black and burnt cookies out of the oven and shutting the machine off. Confused, he walks around the house before he strides into the living room, crying out in anguish when he finds his mother lying in a pool of blood, cold dead. He falls to his knees next to her, tears spilling down his cheeks. His mouth opens in a wordless scream; anguish etching itself into his face._

"What?" He whispers back, his whole body freezing up, his lips still brushing against mine. His hands withdraw from my face. "Why do you want me to take my gloves off?"

_Flames dance, licking against skin, over and over again. In the kitchen. In an alley. A lighter. It's just like a game. Like crack. Do it again and again. Keep going, but don't get caught. Never get caught. Just make the pain go away._

"Take them off." I whisper, grabbing his hands, my head spinning from the flashbacks. He resists, drawing his hands back, but I've already got a hold on his gloves, and they slip off easily.

He takes a step back, completely cutting off our connection, and I let out an audible sigh of relief. Holy crap dude, flashback overload.

His hands are shoved deep into his pockets, his eyes glaring at me in hatred. "Give me my gloves back."

"Let me see your hands." I spit back at him, ready to take out a cigarette and start smoking, damn his preference. I know why he used to smoke.

"Why do you care?" He growls back, rage splattered all over his face.

"Why do you care enough to hide them?" I retort angrily, stuffing his gloves into my back pockets so he can't get them.

I can see wild emotions flying across his face before he finally takes his hands out of his pockets, slowing holding them out and turning them over for me to see.

Old burns cover his palms, completely scaring the skin. Momentarily I feel as if I'm going to fall over, the whole combination of hurt and flashbacks threatening to overwhelm me.

He takes his hands away, slipping them back into his pockets. "May I have my gloves back please?"

I take them out of my pocket, tossing them at him. He grabs them out of the air, quickly slipping them back on his hands.

Vaughn stares at me, a frightened expression crossing his face. "How'd you know about my hands? I've never told anyone about them…"

He trails off, and I swallow hard, looking down at the ground. "Let's just say you're not the only one with a secret."

I glance up at him, my heart throbbing over and over in my chest. He takes a step closer to me, and my eyes widen in fear. I glance at the ghost of his mother, shooting her an apologetic look before I take a step back, turn around and flee the room before he can touch me again.


	5. Impulse

_**A/N: Ah, I knew the super long chapters would come to an end soon. But don't worry! I have a surprise in store for the next chapter that'll make for an extra long chapter! ;) How many of you want to see Vaughn's point of view? **__***giggles* Hint, hint.**_

_**I hope you all like this chapter! Please review and tell me what you think! :D**_

**Chapter 5 Impulse**

I run my hand through my hair, looking up into the sky at the bright sun above my head, floating in a cloud-free sky. It's been about five days since the incident with Vaughn, and it's been haunting me ever since.

I gaze out at my field, rather happy with how I've got it cleared. The great majority of all the branches and rocks are gone, and I've cleared all the weeds. Soon I'll be able to go buy a bunch of grass seeds from Chen, and then make a pasture for my chick to graze in. Then I won't have to spend as much money to buy chicken feed. Hopefully I'll be able to save up enough money to get Gannon to build a barn for me.

Letting out a deep breath, I reach into my pocket and pull out the letter from Cliff that Kirk had given me two days ago. I was rather surprised by how quickly my best friend had written back, but it made me smile all the same.

_Dear Chelsea_

_ It's so great to hear from you! You're right, I was pretty worried about you. But I'm glad you're okay. I know how much you wanted to leave this town._

_ Thanks for the feather! It's really cool. I haven't figured out what kind of bird it belongs to yet, but when I do, I'll let you know! _

_ You've missed quite a bit actually; quite surprising actually, for how much generally happens in this town. Your uncle committed suicide. Thomas found him a couple days after you vanished. Hung himself in his bedroom with a belt. Rather nasty. There's going to be a funeral for him next week if you want to attend._

_ Happier news though: Ann proposed to me. I was really surprised. But, obviously, I said yes, so we're getting married this coming Wednesday. My bachelor party is going to be in the big city on Sunday. I've enclosed an invitation to both the wedding and the bachelor party, so I hope to see you at both! Sorry about the short notice, but you know how quickly these things go by. Remember Mary and Gray's wedding? It happened a week after he proposed to her._

_ Once again, I'm really happy for you Chelsea. I'm glad you finally have a farm of your own. Though I do wish you would give up that damn smoking habit of yours. You're going to kill your lungs that way. Especially now that you're taking care of a farm on your own. Your lungs are pretty important._

_ I laughed reading your description of this Vaughn character. It sounds like you're describing yourself. Although, I'd describe you as snarky and witty rather than silent and rude. Although, I must say something here. Please, be careful with the people on your Island. Do try and be nice to them. And if you find someone you want to have a relationship with, don't wreck it. Having someone to talk to and that understands you would do you wonders. Give it a shot. It won't kill you._

_ Miss you lots_

_ Cliff_

Smiling, I close the letter, pocketing it and walking back to my house. My work is all done for the day. Well, at least the mandatory work. I've taken care of my chick, taken care of my crops, shipped some wild food for money and cleared some more of my field. It's early afternoon, and Cliff's bachelor's party is tonight. And there is no way in hell that I am missing that. I might have to miss his wedding, which saddens me. He's decided to have his wedding back in Mineral Town, and that's a place I never want to visit again. Ever.

I head into my house, slipping out of my sweaty work clothes, dropping my hat on my dresser. Rummaging through my drawers, I manage to find something that might be suitable for a party. Smiling to myself, I start to pack a bag, packing away my outfit for tonight. I know this party will run late, so I'm going to rent a hotel room in the city, and just stay there for the night. That way I don't have to feel awkward walking around for the rest of the afternoon in this outfit I'm planning on wearing.

I toss on a new shirt and a pair of jeans, fixing my hat back on my head, and slipping my feet into my boots. I grab my leather jacket from where it hangs on the edge of my bed and throw it over my shoulder. I pick up my pack of clothes and toiletry items, walking out of my house and locking the door behind me.

Earlier I put out some extra food for Hatter tomorrow, but I should be home by noon tomorrow, so it doesn't particularly matter. I just want to be safe.

The sun burning brightly above me, I walk through Verdure Island down to the beach to catch a boat to the city. Kirk greets me at the dock, and we make small talk as I stand on the dock, waiting for my ride.

After an hour or so, the boat arrives, and I make my departure. I say goodbye to Kirk, letting him know where I've gone in case anyone asks. I spend the next hour or so of the boat ride on the deck, smoking a cigarette and watching the smoke float across the ocean waves. My eyes hurt a little bit, and I close them as I lean against the rail of the boat. I haven't really been sleeping well lately. I keep waking up in a sweaty mess, fear gripping my heart with her icy fingers. It's not a very pleasant way to start the day. Makes me glad for my cigarettes.

I take in a drag, blowing out a puff of smoke. My eyes close, and images flash through my mind. Silver hair, amethyst eyes, bright orange flames, a silver knife, burning anger, aggression and self-loathing. I open my eyes, take another drag, and shake my head. Damn that cowboy. Why did he have to be on this Island? I can't just move away. I would carry the guilt of not helping that ghost for the rest of my life if I didn't help her.

Finally we arrive in the city, and I thank the Captain before I depart, making my way to the hotel Cliff told me about that is near the bar where his bachelor party is going to be. It's much later in the afternoon now, and his party starts around six. What time it ends is all up to each individual guest.

I check into the hotel, my eyes carefully searching for any ghosts that might be out to ruin my night. I climb the stairs to my floor, determined to avoid as many people as possible. I finally get to my floor, and I walk down the hallway until I come to my door, quickly slipping inside.

It's a normal, nice hotel room. The room is clean as a whistle, and I smile to myself as I drop my bag on the bed, glancing at the clock on the wall. I have about an hour.

I jump into the shower, letting the hot water knead out all the stress in my shoulders. I take care with my hair, washing it with a lavender smelling shampoo, thankful that the black dye sticks in my hair. At my roots I can start to see little brown edges, but I can buy some more dye before I go back to the Island.

I take special care to shave too, just in case I happen to get lucky at this party. I know Cliff wants me to try to get into a relationship, but that really just doesn't seem like me. Besides, I'll only end up hurting that person anyway. I highly doubt there are many people I could touch without wanting to hurl from the visions.

Once I'm out of my shower, I towel myself off, digging through my bag to pull out the little black dress I took with me. Smiling, I slip it on. The edge of the dress is short, but not stupidly so. The hem stops just above my knees, and hugs my curves all the way up my body. At my neckline, two straps wrap around my neck, coming together around my neck so I'm left sleeveless, and with a bare back.

Smiling, I take out a small bag of makeup, applying a little blush to my cheeks, a little eyeliner to make my blue eyes pop, and some ruby red lipstick to my full lips. As a last addition, I tie a simple silver chain around my neck. I let out a deep breath. That necklace belonged to my mother, and I only wear it on very special occasions.

Completely ready, I glance at the time and smile to myself. By the time I get down to the bar, I'll be right on time. I slip on nice little black shoes, no heels, and hide the key to my room in my bra before I leave the room, locking it behind me.

I take the elevator to the ground floor. There's only one other person in the elevator with me: a young man about twenty-five, wearing street clothes and a baseball cap on backwards. His tongue is practically falling out of his mouth as he stares at me, and I roll my eyes. Honestly.

I leave the hotel, walking down the street with my head held high, and my walk confident. Damn it, I'm allowed to feel good about myself. Just this one night, let me dance and feel pretty and have fun without having any ghost ruin it. Please? That's not too much to ask for, is it?

I enter the bar, and a grin spread across my face as I catch sight of my best friend. "Cliff!"

He turns, a smile on his face. "Chelsea!" He turns from the guy he was talking to, walking over to me. We give each other a big hug, and he grins and looks at me. "Wow, you look amazing."

I giggle, feeling my face heat up. "Well, my best friend is getting married! I had to look a little presentable, didn't I?"

Cliff lets out a laugh, shaking his head even though his smile won't leave his lips. "God, it's good to see you again Chelsea."

I smile at him, and we stand there, making small talk as the bar starts to fill up with more people. Men and women walk by congratulating Cliff on his engagement. It surprises me that he knows so many people; he's always been so antisocial. But I guess Ann has been bringing him out of that shell.

An hour passes, and I've had a drink or two. Some girls show up, obviously strippers that someone hired for the occasion. They're pretty cute, but I don't want to get involved with a stripper.

Cliff is carried off by some of his guy friends, all of them fooling around with the strippers and laughing as the music pounds around the room, throbbing through every dancing body.

I'm standing by the bar; quite enjoying the amount of drinks I'm allowed to have here. I haven't drunken at all since that boat ride to the Island, and that wasn't very heavy at all. I'm also very thankful they allow smoking in this bar. I ask the bartender for a cigarette, and he gives me one, his eyes clearly a little lower than my face. But I get a cigarette, so whatever. I take a drag, letting out a deep sigh of happiness. Gods, this is fun.

I glance around the room, and my lips turn down in a frown as my eyes catch on a bluish tinge floating through the room. Oh, please no. No ghost. Not tonight. I shake my head, my lips turning into a sour frown.

But then my eyes catch on the person the ghost is following, and I quickly turn around, hoping he won't see me. Why is the cowboy here?

I drown another couple shots, thankful for the buzz they provide. At least I'll be able to talk to him now without feeling so embarrassed. The kiss he gave me runs through my head, the memory of his hands on my skin sending a chill through my spine. Oh, I'd kind of like to have his hands on me again. Screw the flashbacks. He can't have very many more of them.

I drown another shot when I feel someone tap my arm.

_A girl, very pretty with red hair and steamy green eyes, sits on a couch with a silver haired cowboy. She glances at him, her mouth moving as she asks him something. He doesn't reply, so she leans in and kisses his lips, but he remains motionless. She backs away, a hurt expression on her face._

"Hello there Vaughn." I mutter cheerfully, knowing who it is from the flashback. I turn, smiling up at him. "What're you doing here?"

"I'm always here Sunday night." He frowns, sliding into the seat beside me. "What're you doing here?"

I turn and point to my brown haired best friend laughing with a bunch of people. "It's my best friend's bachelor party."

"Ah." His eyes turn away before he looks back at me. "I almost didn't recognize you." His words are soft, and I turn to look at him, noticing that he's really attractive in this light.

"Is that a good thing?" I ask, chuckling to myself as I take another drag of my cigarette.

He snorts, receiving a beer from the bartender. "Very good thing." His eyes stay locked on my eyes. "You look beautiful."

I feel my face heat up, and I smile softly at him. "Thank you."

Vaughn takes a sip of his beer, and I take another shot. When I look at him, I can only see a bluish tinge behind him. I can't see his ghost, and that gives me a wild thrill.

He glances at me, and I notice that his eyes dip down to my lips. I raise an eyebrow, turning in my seat and crossing my legs, showing them off. "You want something?"

He doesn't say anything, and I frown slightly at him. "I'm not going to save you and make it all alright."

"I wouldn't mind trying to save you." He looks up at me, his amethyst eyes boring into mine. I chuckle softly. "How about you dance with me? And then I'll tell you what it's gonna be."

I stand up, walking out onto the dance floor without even watching to see if he's following. I toss my cigarette into a trashcan as I head out to the floor.

I look back, watching as the cowboy threads his way through the crowd of people, the music beating all around us and humming through my veins. Or maybe that's the alcohol. Oh well. I don't care.

He's standing in front of me, and I hold up a finger, motioning for him to step forward. "Come a little closer. I'm not gonna bite."

Vaughn steps closer and rests his hands on my hips, and I'm delighted when no flashbacks of any kind reach my sight. Grinning, I dance a little closer to him, but not putting my arms around him at all yet.

"I'd like to be your friend Jill." Vaughn mutters softly as our bodies sway with all the people around us.

I snort. "I don't want the time to be your friend." The music blares around us, and I twist my body around, my hip brushing against his. "I can tell you now it's going to end."

I turn to look in his eyes, a smile on my lips. "And don't think you can save me. There is no me and you." The memory of his lips on mine flashes through my head, and I move a little closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing close to him. "You down with, I know what we could do."

He looks down at me, something flashing through his eyes. I wink at him. "I don't mind pretending that you're mine."

I lean forward. "Just keep in mind, we'd never make it."

Giggling, I spin out of his arms, dancing around the floor, the music blaring loud and the room hot and sweaty with all the people dance around. My head turns, looking around for Vaughn. He hasn't moved, and I grin at him, motioning for him to come closer. He walks over towards me, and I wink at him. "I won't bite. Promise."

Vaughn shakes his head. "You're drunk."

"I am not." I pout at him. "I resent that. I am perfectly capable of holding my liquor." I chuckle softly to myself. "As for being buzzed..." I shrug my shoulder, grin still in place. "I plead guilty to that charge."

He looks at me hard, the look making me freeze in my dancing, caught in his gaze. Suddenly, he takes a step forward, grabbing me by my waist as he brings me closer to him and presses his lips against mine hard.

Caught by surprise, it takes me a moment before I kiss him back just as roughly, his lips warm on my cold ones. I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers running through his hair, careful not to knock off his hat. His hands grip my waist, pulling me close to him. I flick my tongue against his lips, pressing my body close to him.

He gasps out, pulling our lips apart and giving me a careful look before leaning forward and pressing his lips to mine again.

You know those days when time seems to go really slowly? Or when time seems to go by so fast you wonder where the day went?

This night went like that.

The evening seemed to go by in flashes. On the dance floor, kissing Vaughn. Being pulled out of the club and diving into a cab, kissing the silver haired cowboy within an inch of his life. Being pulled out of that cab and carried into an apartment, still kissing madly. God his lips tasted good. A flash of the bedroom, clothes dropping to the floor.

And after the impulsive actions, time seemed to slow to a halt.

I lie in a strange bed, my breathing even as I stare at the white ceiling. Vaughn is lying right next to me, the two of us under a simple white sheet. His breathing is completely even, and I glance over at him. He's asleep.

I turn back, closing my eyes. Gods, that was amazing. I've never had sex that good before. I open my eyes, glancing over at him. A pang goes through my heart, the sex having sobered me up big time.

I shouldn't have done that.

But I don't want to leave...

I shake my head, slipping out of the bed. I need a smoke.

I grab his discarded shirt from the floor, tossing it over my shoulders. It covers my body, and that works. Quietly, I walk into his living room, searching for a cigarette. I finally find some in a desk drawer, letting out a sigh of relief. I take out the pack, and the lighter that rests next to it, and I walk out onto the balcony.

Outside, I light up a cigarette, bringing it to my lips, and letting out a deep sigh. Why does he have to be so good? God, this makes it harder. I glance through the window, looking at Vaughn lying there sleeping on the bed. I turn my head and gaze back out at the city, the stars lighting up the night sky and the city lights bustling below. Somewhere in my heart, I know there's another reason why this is hard.

I think I like Vaughn. More than a friend.

I let out a puff of smoke, closing my eyes and letting the night wind caress my body. The touch isn't as warm as Vaughn's, and I find myself wanting to slip back into bed with him.

I shake my head. No. I will not do that. I am not going to start a relationship. I can't. I'll go back to the Island, and only talk to him about his mother. Nothing else. I will help him with his ghost, and then be done with him. I won't talk to him again after that.

I let out another puff of smoke, sighing sadly. I open my eyes, sensing a presence beside my own. I glance at the ghost of Vaughn's mother. "Yes?"

_Thank you._ I hear her voice drift softly towards me. _My son is happy again. Something you did helped him accept the fact that I'm gone. Thank you._

What did I do? Well... besides sleep with him that is.

She looks at me softly, and I hear her voice again. _Please dear, try to help yourself too. My son is fine now, but I have the feeling that you aren't._ I watch as she glances into the house, and I follow her gaze to her sleeping son. _Call it a mother's intuition, but I think you like him._

She smiles at me. _Don't give up on love dear._

Softly she starts to vanish, the words "thank you" once again ringing in my head.

I let out a deep sigh when she vanishes. Well, at least that's one less thing to worry about. I'm sorry, but I am not going to get any further involved with this cowboy.

I put out my cigarette, quietly walking back into the room. I grab my undergarments, putting them on after I take off Vaughn's shirt. I slip my dress back on, dropping his shirt back into the floor. I slip on my shoes, and then I quietly slip out of his apartment.


	6. Vaughn

_**A/N: Alrighty! I thought I would do something interesting for this chapter. I've felt a little lonely, not having any chapters with Vaughn's POV, so I've decided to write a HUGE chapter of his point of view for all the past chapters! I'm sorry if you all find it boring, but I hope you all like to get a little look on what goes inside our lovely cowboy's head. :) Now, when I wrote this, it was over 10,000 words long! So I've decided to split it up into two chapters for you guys to read. That sounds easier to manage, yes?**_

_**Enjoy! And don't forget to review and tell me what you think!**_

**Chapter 6 Vaughn**

My hands stuffed into my pockets, I stroll across the sidewalk, crossing the street to the harbour. The black Stetson on my head, matching the rest of the cowboy getup I've got on, shades my eyes. As I walk, a few people send me odd glances, but I ignore them.

Dressing like a southern rancher doesn't earn you many points in a city like this. But it's okay, as I don't stay here much. I've got an apartment in the city, but it's mostly just a resting spot, as my job requires me to travel a lot.

I'm an animal dealer. I work for a company that raises animals, and they get me to go around to different farms, doing paperwork and selling animals. And it's not a bad job. I love animals. People… I'm not so good with people. Actually, I _suck_ at dealing with people.

Now, it's not that I don't like people. Don't get me wrong. People can be awesome and fun to watch. I'm just not a good participator. I don't do group projects.

My boots click against the wooden dock as I walk towards my boat. Today is Monday, so I'm on my way to an island called Sunshine Islands. There's an old farm on that Island, but no one is running it right now. My cousin, who happens to live on that Island, told me that a new farmer should be arriving any day now.

That'll be good. It'll help pick business up on that Island. Our company is doing fine overall, but I get a small bonus for every animal I sell.

Now, don't get the impression that I'm obsessed with money either. A lot of people get that impression off of me, but it's not true. I love what I do, and I love giving animals to people; so long as those people are responsible enough to take care of them. If there's one thing I hate, it's people who abuse animals. That's my one sore spot. Well… that, and my mother.

My lips turn down, but I sigh and shrug the issue out of my mind. I won't think about her. It's been getting me down for years. I really ought to let it go… but I don't want to.

I reach my boat and pass right by the guy taking names on the plank. I've been on this boat so many times, he knows who I am off by heart. The outfit helps a bit.

I don't even bother walking to my designated cabin below deck. I don't have any luggage with me today. I never do when I go to Sunshine Island. My cousin lets me stay with her, so I've got a room to myself in her house, with clothes and everything I'll possibly need there. It's very useful, as I go to those Islands every Monday and Tuesday. Every week.

Instead, I walk down to the bar. The trip isn't that long; maybe an hour and a bit. But I wouldn't mind a glass of wine. It's early in the morning, but who cares? I'm a grown man; I can do as I please.

There's a sign on the door to the bar showing that smoking is allowed. A small pang shoots through my heart. I used to smoke. I don't anymore. I still have a pack in my apartment, but I don't use them. I don't know why I haven't bothered to throw them out yet.

I sit down on one of the stools, the same stool I sit on every time I come down here. The bartender walks over to me, giving me a glass of wine before he walks back over to another man at the bar. I chuckle under my breath. I've come here so often, he doesn't even need to ask what I want to drink.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch someone sitting down on the stool beside me. I glance at the person, noticing she's a girl. But what surprises me is how she's dressed.

On her head is a black Stenson that looks exactly like mine. I glance down to her feet, noticing she's wearing boots that look exactly like mine too. My lips dip downwards as I look over her. She's wearing jeans and a dark t-shirt, with a leather jacket draped over her shoulders. It looks much too big for her.

The bartender walks over to her, picking up a beer mug from underneath the bar. "What can I get you?"

This girl smiles at him. "May I have a scotch please?"

The bartender nods and walks off to get her drink, and I snort, rolling my eyes. "You sure you can handle that?" She looks super lightweight. I don't know if she should be drinking something that heavy as her first drink of the day. It _is_ pretty early.

She twists on her stool, her eyes narrowed as she looks at me. Her eyes look me up and down, but I'm used to such scrutiny. But now that she's looking my way, I have a better view of her face.

This girl has bright blue eyes that seem to pop out of her pale face. Her lips are full, and actually looks quite adorable on her. Her hair is black, but something about it looks fake and dry, so I'm guessing she died her hair with some cheap black dye. She's actually very pretty. And I must admit the country addition to her appearance kind of turns me on.

I notice she glances over my shoulder, but before I can turn to look behind me, she looks down to my drink. "You're drinking a glass of wine. I'm the one who should be asking if you can handle that."

I narrow my eyes at her. "I like wine." Usually people don't strike up conversations with me. It's a bit of a nice change, even if she did shoot me an insult.

She snorts, rolling her eyes. "So do I, but it just doesn't cut it for me."

I glance over at the bartender, who's been watching our verbal jest very carefully. He sets down the girl's glass of scotch, and two of us watch as this tiny little girl downs the entire drink in one gulp. The bartender reaches out to get her another, but the girl waves her hand and tells him she doesn't need another.

He lets out a sigh and walks over to the opposite end of the bar. I watch as this girl lets out a deep breath, her eyes stuck on the empty glass.

Suddenly, she twists her head to look at me with raised eyebrows, shooting me a dirty look. Resisting the urge to laugh, I shoot her a similar look. I watch in amusement as she rolls her eyes and digs a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from her pocket.

She's a smoker.

I don't know why that bothers me so much. I used to smoke too. Of course, I didn't always smoke. I liked the flame of the lighter a little more…

I shake my head, taking a sip of my wine and throwing those thoughts out of my mind. "What's a city girl like you doing out here?" Might as well figure out who this girl is. Maybe she's the new farmer for Sunshine Islands.

"I ain't no city girl." She answers coldly, her bad grammar used for effect. I roll my eyes as she lights up a cigarette, raising it to her lips.

"Sure ya aren't." I mimic her tone, wondering what her problem is. "That's why your hair is died that awful black, right?"

She lets out a puff of smoke, her expression neutral. I guess my words didn't affect her as much as I thought they would.

"Why do you care?" She shoots back, maneuvering around my question as she lets out another puff of smoke.

"Why do you care enough to change it?" I ask her, narrowing my eyes at her. Something is wrong with her. I'm not sure what, but there is. She doesn't look much older than eighteen. Is she running away from home?

"None of your damn business." She snaps at me, and I resist the urge to chuckle. Someone is a little touchy.

She glances at me, and I can't help but wonder how she would look smiling. I bet she'd be really pretty with a genuine smile on her face. "You think something's funny?"

I look down into my glass of wine. Do I think something's funny? A little. But… I glance up at her, looking into her eyes. There's a familiar expression in her eyes… I just can't put my finger on it.

"That's what I thought." She hisses at me, and I notice her head is tilted slightly, like she's looking at something behind me. Whatever.

I take another sip of my glass, watching as the girl sticks her cigarette into the ashtray on the counter. The bartender walks over to inform us that we'll be arriving at the island soon, and she tips her hat at him before dropping a couple dollar bills into an empty glass jar of tips.

I smile to myself. That was very nice of her. Maybe she's not so bad after all.

I spend a good chuck of time finishing my glass of wine, and then I thank the bartender, dropping a couple coins in his jar of tips. I would tip more, but that's all I have on my person right now.

Taking in a deep breath, I walk up to the main deck, breathing in the salt air all around us. Looking around, I catch sight of the same girl from the bar standing on the deck. She's got a suitcase with her, and she's leaning on the railing. My suspicion of her being the new farmer is gaining more ground.

Walking over to where she's standing, I lean on the railing beside her. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see that she glances at me, but she raises a new cigarette to her lips and lets out a puff of smoke. I resist the urge to frown. If she's going to be the new farmer, she shouldn't be smoking this much.

She glances at me again, but I try to look like I'm not concerned with her examination. I turn my head to the side, letting the wind brush against my face. I glance at her, looking at her eyes, trying to place the look that I see in them. I don't know what it is, something about them tugs at my memory, like I've seen them before. I don't know where though…

The girl leans her head back and opens her eyes wide as the Island comes into view. And that's when I realize why that look in her eyes seems familiar.

It's because I see that same haunted look whenever I look in the mirror.

Quickly, I step off the boat, trying to distance myself from the girl. I didn't want her to catch me staring at her. I catch sight of Julia, my cousin, on the dock, but I just brush by her, curtly telling her I'm going to the house.

I walk off the dock, refusing to look back, the image of those eyes imprinted into my brain. What had happened to her? Do I want to know?

Ugh, this is crazy. Why am I obsessing over this? It's probably nothing. She's just a girl with an attitude problem, nothing else. I am not going to allow myself to be sucked into another pair of big eyes.

I have not had the best love life ever. Nope. It was nonexistent when I was a teenager, but ever since the event that happened with my mother, it seems like the only thing I can ever do with girls is hurt them. It's not like I try to hurt them. I just… I just can't bring myself to feel anything for them. And that hurts a lot.

I walk into the Animal Shop, where my cousin Julia and my aunt Mirabelle live. I've got a room in the back that they let me use.

Once inside my room, I take out a stack of papers I need to start working on for my job. But before I can even grab a pencil, someone throws my door open.

I turn to glare at my cousin. "Julia, what do you want?"

She grins at me, all bubbly smiles. "Taro wants everyone to go to the farm for introductions. The new farmer got here today." She sticks her tongue out at me. "I bet your weren't very nice to her on the boat."

And that cinches it. That girl is the new farmer.

I follow Julia out of the house, heading out to the farm. The girl walks out of the house on the land with Taro, looking a little overwhelmed. The whole Island is gathered here. Well, except Denny and Lanna. The two of them are probably off fishing together or something. Goodness knows they do nothing else.

I stand next to Sabrina on the far end of the crowd of people; ignoring the shy smiles she shoots me. My eyes roam over to Chelsea meeting and greeting everyone. She looks so awkward. I don't think she gets along with people that much. I chuckle softly; she could be a female version of myself. But that's a little creepy, so I toss the thought out.

Soon, her and Taro walk over to us. The old man speaks up. "This is Vaughn, but I assume you've already met. He's the animal trader for the Island, and he's here every Monday and Tuesday."

I nod, confirming the information. Taro walks away back to Felicity, but the girl stays standing in front of me, giving me a curious look. "Animals?"

I turn my eyes on her. "You like animals?"

She smiles at me. "Actually, I love animals." She glances around, and then lowers her voice a bit. "They're much easier to deal with than people are."

I can feel the surprise written on my face. Wow, she just summed that up perfectly. Guess this one is a little cleverer than I gave her credit for. Quietly, I mutter back. "Ain't that the truth…"

Suddenly Taro yells out to everyone gathered on the old farm. "Alright everyone! Now that you've all met Jill, we best leave her to start working on her farm."

Jill. So that's her name. It's pretty. I glance at her as she waves goodbye to everyone. Maybe it's just me, but she doesn't look much like a Jill to me. Whatever. Just my mind being crazy I guess.

I dip my hat at her, a smile tugging at my lips when she dips her hat at me. I walk out of her farm, laughing when Denny and Lanna come rushing up the path. Tardy much?

I head back to the Animal Shop, sliding into my room to tackle that paperwork, those blue eyes floating through my mind.

One week. One week later, and I _still_ can't get those blue eyes out of my mind. _Fuck._ What is wrong with me?

Is it that haunted look I saw in her eyes on the ship? Is that what keeps my mind hanging on to her? It certainly isn't the insults she kept throwing me way. Is it the fact that she likes animals? That she was so easily able to sum up something I've always been unable to fully put into words?

Whatever it is, it's causing those blue eyes to stick in my head.

I finish writing a few words, finishing up all my paperwork for the day. What should I do now? I haven't talked to Jill since that introduction last week. Maybe I should go see how she's doing…

I shake my head, scoffing at myself. Julia would make so much fun of me right now. I haven't been this hung up on someone since Celia from Forget-Me-Not Valley, and she ended up cheating on me with some guy named Marlin. I'd rather not get hurt like that again.

Of course, I'm not quite innocent in that department, but that's beside the point.

Maybe I will go visit her. Julia told me that Gannon is in the middle of building her a coop. I know it's not company policy, but I think I might give her a chick once her coop is built. I'll just pay for it. It'll be a truce offering. Maybe it'll help me figure out what's wrong with her.

Decided, I stand up and walk out of the house, no one questioning me about my destination. Quickly, I walk up to her farm, looking around. I feel a little bad; this farm isn't in very good shape. I hope she can manage.

I glance over to her house, finally catching sight of her standing by the house, surrounded by planks of wood. I frown when I realize that she's smoking. Again.

"You sure you should be smoking?" I call out, watching as she turns on her heels and glares at me. In defiance of my comment, she blows out another puff of smoke. I narrow my eyes at her walking, walking over.

"I can do whatever the hell I please." She growls at me, and I notice that she's not wearing her hat. She's not wearing her jacket either. She's wearing a little tank top, shorts, and gloves on her hands, obvious sweat lining her brow. There is something really sexy about a hard-working woman, I must say. She does look very attractive right now.

"You realize that smoking isn't good for you, right?" I frown slightly, closer to where she's standing now.

She takes a step back, and the frown on my face doesn't disappear. Does she have space issues? Trust issues? I look up at her, noticing her eyes are narrowed at me. "A lot of things aren't good for you. But I think I'll take my chances with the smoke." Once again, she brings the cigarette to her lips, taking a long drag before blowing a cloud of smoke in my direction.

I roll my eyes, hooking my thumbs through my belt loop, trying not to think about other things that aren't good for you. Fire being one of them. "Fine, kill yourself, see if I care." My own words send a pang through my heart, remembering when I had been in that kind of stage.

She picks up a hammer and some nails, throwing a plank of wood over her shoulder before she starts climbing up a ladder. "If you don't care so much, why're you here?"

Jill rests the plank on the roof of her house when she reaches the top of the ladder, and I realize that she's making repairs to her own house. That's pretty dangerous… but she seems really competent. She looks down at me with a raised eyebrow, and I frown and turn my head to the ground, muttering under my breath. "Maybe I do care."

"You're going to have to speak up if you want me to hear you cowboy." She calls out as she starts hammering away.

A rush of anger shoots through me. "Nothing." I snarl out, shaking my head. Why did I even come here? Why do I care? She's just a brat.

"Oooh, touchy." She snickers, hammering another nail into the room. "Did you come here to see if I'm doing alright?" Her words hit the nail on the head, and I glance up to catch a haughty expression on her face. "Does someone have a little crush on me?"

I can feel my eyes blazing with anger. Ugh! I'm done. I'm not dealing with this. I turn on my heels, a roar of laughter at my back. My face turns a deep red, shame and humiliation making my face flush, making me realize that I do care for her a bit. And it hurt to be spoken to like that.

"Ugh, Vaughn, wait." I stop; take in a deep breath, and turn around to face her. She hammers another nail into her roof, and I start walking closer, shaking my head as I walk. Honestly. What is with her? Do people find me this annoying?

I glance up at her as she starts to make her way down the ladder. She turns to look at me and smirks. "Hey, come closer cowboy. I don't wanna yell at you."

Rolling my eyes, I walk over to her, biting the inside of my cheek as I watch her climb down the ladder.

Abruptly, I catch the movement of her foot slipping, and I react automatically. I leap forward, holding out my arms as she falls to the ground without making a single noise. I catch her in my arms before she hits the ground.

Jill blinks a few times, and then her face contorts and she drops to her knees, hurling onto the ground. My eyes widen as she groans loudly, her body heaving as she throws up again.

"Whoa, are you okay?" My eyes are wide, and I bend down to touch her shoulder and brace her. Who the hell has that kind of reaction from slipping on a ladder?

"Don't touch me!" She screams in my ear, scrambling away from me, her eyes wide with fear.

My eyes widen as she bends over again, down on all fours, clutching at her stomach as her eyes squeeze shut. Her body convulses, and her mouth opens as if to throw up, but nothing comes up.

I watch, my mouth slightly agape as she rolls over onto her back, her chest heaving as her mouth widens as she gasps for a breath of air. Her eyes squeeze shut tightly, and her whole body looks pale and shaky.

"Are you okay?" I ask softly, unsure of what I should do. People don't just throw up for no reason.

She peels her eyes open, propping herself into a sitting position with a groan. "I'm fine." Jill spits the words out as she wobbly rises to her feet.

I raise an eyebrow at her, carefully looking over her pale and sweaty face, the fear and pain locked in her eyes.

Hooking my thumbs through my belt loops, I try to catch her eyes. "You didn't fall that far. You don't have some sort of weird case of vertigo, do you?"

"I'm fine." She hisses at me, anger lacing her voice as she lurches past me, a hand pressing against her forehead.

Her definition of fine must be way different than mine. Because that little episode is certainly not fine. Is she sick or something? Does she have some sort of terminal disease? Is she just overheating from the sun?

"Maybe you should sit in the shade." I mutter softly, following her. "You've been working under the sun all day."

"Don't tell me what to do." She snaps at me angrily, glaring as she whirls around to head back to work. I watch as she stops suddenly, planting her feet in the ground. She spreads her arms out wide, as if she's trying to catch her balance.

I let out a soft sigh. This girl is really stubborn. I hear her let out a soft sigh. "Maybe a small break won't hurt." Jill slowly walks over to the shade by her house and rests her back against the wall.

"No, it wouldn't." My lips dip downward as I walk over to where she's sitting, putting myself in the shade. I squat down and grab a water bottle that happens to be lying on the ground, passing it to her. "Water wouldn't hurt either."

She snatches the bottle out of my hands rather angrily, nursing the bottle of water as she glares at me. I keep my eyes trained on her as she drinks the cold water, closing her eyes as she leans her head against the wall.

Her eyes peel open and she frowns at me, her eyes narrowing at me. I notice she glances at my hands before she draws her knees to her chest. "Don't you have something better to do?"

She reaches for a pack of cigarettes, and I frown at her. "I don't think smoking after hurling will make you feel better." Jill simply sneers at me, lighting up a cigarette despite my warning. "You don't know how my body works; how would you know if smoking makes me feel better or not?"

I roll my eyes, sitting down on the ground when the soles of my feet start to go numb. She's unbelievable. And yet… I keep my eyes on her, watching as she takes a drag of that cigarette. She's unlike anyone I've ever met before. And I find it fascinating.

She throws her head, tossing her hair over her shoulder, giving me a weird look. "What?"

I shake my head. "You're something." Something interesting. Something weird. Something funny. Something fascinating. Something beautiful.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her lips dip down in a frown at my words. I watch as she glances up above my head, and I resist the urge to turn around and she what the hell she's looking at. I don't know what it is; but it seems like every time I'm near her, she's always looking over my shoulder at something. It's a little unnerving.

Jill lets out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, I'm sorry I teased you before. And I'm sorry I yelled at you, okay?" She snaps the words out, as if she's trying to spit the words out before she decides against it. She chugs down another gulp of water before she brings her cigarette to her lips again.

I nod, understanding her apology and accepting it. My fingers twist around a blade of grass, thinking about what it was that could have made her react so violently earlier. I wonder if she would tell me if I asked…?

"So, what are you here for?" I glance up, watching as she puffs out smoke, looking at me for an answer. I tilt my head. Does she mean here on her farm or here in general?

She rolls her eyes, taking another drag of her cigarette, obviously bored of my silence. I shrug my shoulders and answer honestly. "I came to see if Gannon was finished building your coop yet."

Jill throws me a look of bewilderment. "Then why the hell even talk to me? You could have gone to Gannon, asked him for a progress report, and then left without bothering me."

I snort, looking down at my gloves, and fingering the edges slightly. She must really hate being around people even more than I do. "I never thought I would meet someone even more antisocial than I am."

I glance up at her, watching as she tilts her head, giving me a strange look. I raise an eyebrow, sending her an odd look back. "What?"

"Nothing." She mutters, shaking her head as she keeps her eyes trained on me. I shift awkwardly, feeling like she's examining me under a microscope. I don't know if I want her to look at me that closely. I highly doubt she would like what she found. I'm not exactly the best specimen out there.

"It's just… my best friend used to say the same thing to me all the time."

I look up at her, a smile tugging at my lips as I chuckle. "So you have had friends before?"

"Ha, ha, ha." She rolls her eyes, a smile pulling her lips up. The smile doesn't disappear from my lips. Gods, she's really pretty. "Yes, I've had a friend before. Not sure if I can say the same about you."

My smile vanishes with her last words. I glance off to the side, wrapping my arm around my shoulder. "I haven't had the easiest life." Bullied as a kid, bullied as a teenager, my mom being murdered. None of those make up for a well-structured person. Not to mention all the fighting my brother and I have done, all the trouble I've had with love, and all the self-loathing I have bottled up inside me.

"No shit." I look at her, my eyes narrowed. How would she know what my life was like? I only met her last week? Julia wouldn't be able to tell her the majority of the things that have happened to me.

She shrugs her shoulder nonchalantly. "I don't have an easy life either. I don't think many people do."

"Oh yeah?" I raise an eyebrow, looking at her carefully. "What makes your life so hard?" Maybe now she'll tell me why she's so different from everyone I've ever met.

She pauses, and then leans against the side of her house. "My parents were killed in a car accident when I was six."

The withering look on my face vanishes, and I scratch the back of my neck, feeling like an ass. Both her parents. Gods, that sucks.

"Oh, hey, I'm sorry Jill. I didn't know." I look up into her eyes, the pain shimmering in those blue orbs.

"I know." She sighs softly, gazing off into the distance, pain etched into every line on her face.

"So, let me guess." She turns to look back at me, blowing out another puff of smoke as she switches the conversation around. "You were bullied for looking like a freak, yes."

I narrow my eyes at her, a little surprised at her guess, but it's really not a bad guess. I mean, honestly; look at me. "Calling me a freak makes me feel so much better about myself." She chuckles, a wry smile turning her lips back up. I shake my head, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, I was."

"So, my parents are dead. What about yours?"

The question seems to come out of nowhere, though I understand her curiosity after telling me about her parents. I close my hands slightly, my fingers brushing against the fabric of my gloves; the thin surface separating my fingertips from the burn scars.

"My dad left when I was a few years old." I turn to glance at Gannon, simply to see if he's done. I don't want to get too deep into this conversation. "He left my mom alone with twin boys to look after, and no word of where he went or why. I haven't seen him since I was six."

I take in a deep breath. I can't remember anything about my dad. Well, I can remember a gruff voice, and the feel of hair brushing against my forehead in a goodnight kiss, but that's about it.

And then there's my mom. The one who raises my brother and I even through all that hardship. The one woman I loved with my whole heart. "And my mom was killed a couple years ago. Robber." My jaw tightens, pain flooding my heart, rushing to bring back all the bad impulses and decisions I've made since her death.

"I'm sorry." She whispers softly. I glance at her, noticing some kind of understand in her glance.

"Whatever." I mutter, brushing the thoughts out of my mind. Not something I want to think about right now. "I'm okay with it."

She snorts, letting out a laugh. "Obviously not."

I glare at her angrily. What the hell does she know? Does she have any idea how easily I could have prevented it? How much pain I had to go through because of her death? What gives her the right to judge if I'm okay or not? "How would you know? You're not me." Of course… she's not wrong.

"And there it seems we come to an understand." She waves her cigarette in the air, a grin on her face despite my angry reaction. "I don't know you, and you don't know me. I won't judge you, if you won't judge me."

I snort, rolling my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips as I admire how easily she's able to find the humor in dark conversations such as this one. "You really are something."

"I try my best." She chuckles, taking another drag of her cigarette. I glance at her, my eyes roaming up and down her body. Gods, she's something I wouldn't mind getting to know better in the slightest. I haven't been this intrigued by a girl in years.

She flicks her cigarette into a trash bag, rising to her feet and stretching out her back. "Well, this chat has been absolutely delightful, but I'm afraid I must return to being a hermit and continue working on my house so it doesn't blow over."

Jill starts walking over to pick up some more materials for her roof, and I stand up to walk behind her. "Would you like some help?"

She turns to look back at me, her eyebrows raised. "Don't you have a job to do?"

I shrug my shoulder. "I'm done for the day. Well," I pause, glancing back at Gannon, thinking about my idea of giving her a baby chick once he's done building that coop. "At least until Gannon is done working over there."

She shrugs her shoulders, turning her back on me and seeming completely indifferent. I frown slightly; it didn't hit me at all until right then… but what if she's not into me like I'm into her? She did scream at me earlier not to touch her…

"I don't know what you'd be able to do. Besides, I think I've got it handled."

"Yeah, that's how you fell off that ladder so easily, right?" The words are spoken softly as I'm lost in my thoughts. This would be really awkward if she didn't like me… I think she might, because she hasn't told me to get lost yet. But I don't know… could go either way right now.

"I was doing fine until you come along."

I roll my eyes, taking a step towards her ladder and holding it in place a she climbs up. "Oh I don't doubt it." My voice is dripping with sarcasm, but I hear a soft chuckle come from her, and I smile softly.

I glance up, feeling my face heat up, and I quickly avert my eyes. Ah, yes, she has a very attractive body, but I feel like such a creep checking out her ass like this.

"Jill," I glance over when I hear Gannon's voice, surprised at how quietly a big man like him can move. "I finished building your coop. It's all set. Make sure you check it out sometime."

He starts walking away, and I hear Jill call out to him. "Thanks Gannon." The man waves in response, and Jill goes back to her work.

I pause, waiting to see if she'll strike up any conversation. But she just hammers away at her roof, and I slip away, walking back to the Animal Shop to grab my little surprise for her.

As I walk, I absorb myself in my thoughts. What is it that made her react that violently to falling less than a foot from a ladder? Gods, I hope she's not terminally ill with some disease with weird side effects. Does she not like touching people? No, that can't be it. No one throws up from simply touching another person. I wonder if she has an allergies… of course, that would suck really badly if she was allergic to me. Of course, I don't think it's possible to be allergic to a single person.

I slip into the Animal Shop, going into the back where Julia and Mirabelle keep a few animals. I pick up a baby chick, making a mental note to pay Mirabelle for her later.

With the animal held comfortably in my arms, I start walking my way back to her farm.

I wonder what her childhood was like. What with her parents both dying when she was little. Who raised her? Do they know that she's there? Who's her best friend she mentioned earlier? What're they like? Is her best friend male or female? I don't know. And I find it oddly fascinating that I want to know.

I doubt she got into any fights when she was younger like I did. She's pretty thin, and even though she seems tough, she doesn't seem like the type to jump into a fight with fists flying.

I walk into her farmyard, glancing at the house. She's gone, so I start walking towards her new coop, assuming that's where she's going to be.

I slip into the coop, standing at the doors. A smile graces my lips as I catch sight of Jill, gazing out the coop in wonder, a look of complete and utter happiness on her face. Wow, that's beautiful.

"Gannon really does his job well." I mutter the words, alerting her to my presence. She turns, her mouth gaping out adorably as she look at the baby chick I've got in my hands.

Chuckling softly, I take a few steps forward, closing the door of the coop behind me. "I've noticed that most people are really passionate about one thing, and they tend to do that thing really well." I smile down at the baby chick, gently brushing my fingers against her down. "Gannon's thing is carpentry."

I look up at her, my eyes tracing over her face. "I think your thing is animals."

I take a couple steps toward her so that I'm standing in front of her. She doesn't move away, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest when she doesn't. I'm acutely aware of how close we are. I glance at her face, and notice her eyes glazing over my face. My eyes dart down to look at her lips, and I feel a sudden urge to press my lips against hers.

Suddenly, she takes a step backwards, and my eyes snap to her eyes, noticing she's looking over my shoulder again. Fuck, what is she looking at? There's nothing behind me.

I watch as she takes another couple spaces back, increasing the distance between the two of us. My heart drops in disappointment. Maybe she's not into me at all.

I bend down, placing the baby chick on the ground, shaking my head. No, there's no way she's _not _into me. There was definitely some sparks there when she looked at me.

The baby chick tilts her head, and then wobbles over to Jill. She bends down, picking up the small ball of fluff. I chuckle softly, the grin on her face absolutely captivating. "That's for you."

"For me?" She looks up at me, confusion in her eyes. "But I didn't buy a chicken."

I glance down at the baby chick before my eyes move back to hers, holding her gaze. "Think of it as a gift." I smile softly at her, turning on my feet to leave without taking my gaze away from hers. "I think you'll be able to take good care of this farm."

I turn my eyes away from hers, walking towards the door. I pause at the entrance, one of my hands on the door and my back to her. "Don't prove me wrong."

I take one step, but I hear words tumbling out of her mouth. "And what's your thing?"

I turn my head to look back at her, a smile on my face as I lock my eyes with hers. "Try and find out."

I exit the coop, closing the door behind me. As I walk away, a smile refuses to leave my face.

There you go Jill. The ball's in your court now. Make your move.


	7. Vaughn II

_**A/N: Alright, here's the second part of that Vaughn chapter I promised you all. The title is so creative, no? Hahahaa, yep. I hope you guys are enjoying this? I've certainly carried this story along much better than when I tried to write it before.**_

_**Please review and tell me what you think!**_

**Chapter 7 Vaughn II**

Rain, rain, go away, come again another day.

I lean against the counter of the kitchen in the Animal Shop. Jill didn't come and talk to me at all yesterday after I left, but I'm not jumping to any conclusions. She does have a lot to do on that farm, and I'm probably on the top of her list of things to do.

Erm… that was phrased wrong.

I glance out the window, watching as the rain pounds against the glass, not even bothering to be gentle. It's going to rain hard today. It's practically a storm outside already. Guess I won't be seeing Jill for at least another week.

I shrug, letting out a sigh. That's not a big deal. Honestly Vaughn, get a grip of yourself. Stop obsessing, it's creepy.

At least my family isn't around to bug me for moping around. Julia is in her room with Elliot, and I _do not_ want to know what they're doing. Mirabelle went over to visit Felicity; the two of them went to the café for lunch.

Hmm… what to do…? I'm practically alone in the house. I should be able to think of something to keep myself busy for a couple hours before my boat arrives to take me to Forget-Me-Not Valley.

Suddenly the door bursts open, and I glance over, my eyes widening in surprise as the unexpected guests quickly closes the door behind her.

"Jill?"

She rubs her boots on the welcome matt, glancing up and giving me a hostile glare. I roll my eyes. Well, nice to see you too. Geessh.

"Vaughn." She mutters as a reply, slipping her feet out of her boots to reveal fuzzy blue socks. I conceal a chuckle, watching as she slips off her jacket and hangs it up on the hander next to the door.

She's dripping wet, but she doesn't seem to care in the slightest. Jill walks over to where I'm standing, a grin on her face. "Have you noticed it's raining?"

Are my eyes purple?

She simply giggles, and I roll my eyes at her. "You realize that it's practically a thunderstorm out there, right?"

Jill nods, a bright grin still plastered all over her face. "Yep. It's delightful isn't it?"

I glance at her, and pull my Stenson over my eyes. Gods, she's cute. I rather like this bubbly side of her. I much prefer it to her screaming at me, that's for sure.

"What do you want?" I look back up at her, wondering why she's face a storm just to come and visit me.

"I came to see if you guys have any paper I can have."

I snort. "Paper? You're weird."

She doesn't have to answer, and I find that I don't need an answer. I stand up, walking around the counter to pull some paper out of a drawer. I pass her a couple sheets, and she smiles at me. "Thanks." I like it when she smiles at me. I reach into the drawer, assuming she'll need a pencil.

"Do you think I could borrow a pencil too?"

She glances up at the pencil I'm already holding out for her, a delighted grin on her face. "Thank you."

"What do you want the paper for?" I ask her, moderately curious as I close the drawer and lean against the counter where I am, my eyes tracing over her face.

"Curiosity killed the car." She chuckles softly, holding the pencil in her hands.

I shrug my shoulders. "Fine, don't tell me. I don't care."

Jill laughs at me. "You've said that before. Are you trying to convince me, or yourself that you don't care?"

I roll my eyes. Honestly, why is she so difficult? I pull my Stenson further over my eyes. Without saying a word, I push myself off the counter and walk out of the room. Is she wants to pursue a reasonable conversation, she can follow me. If she just wants her paper, she can use it and get out.

I slip into my room, closing the door behind me. I roll my eyes and let out a deep breath. Why is that girl so difficult? Heh, I guess I can't blame her that much. I'm pretty difficult too.

I take off my hat, placing it down on my desk. My fingers run through my hair, shifting it over my eyes. Silver. Ugh, who the hell has silver hair at age twenty-four? Really? That's just not fair.

I plop down on my bed, sprawling out across the mattress and staring up at the ceiling. I wonder whom she's writing to? It probably doesn't matter; she wouldn't tell me anyway.

Why does she have to be so snippy too? Maybe I'm just mad because she's right… I do care about her. Am I trying to convince myself that I don't? Maybe.

A soft knock on the door reaches my ears, but I don't answer it. Whoever it is can just walk in.

"Lazy much?"

I turn my head to the side, recognizing the voice instantly. My eyes narrow at her, and I glare, deeply annoyed by the smug smile on her face and the confident way she's leaning against the doorframe.

"What do you want?" I frown at her.

She shrugs, a coy grin on her face. "What? Don't enjoy conversation?"

"As a matter of face… no, I don't." I roll my eyes at her, sitting up and drawing one leg close to my, resting my foot against the bed frame.

She chuckles softly to herself. "That's cool, I don't either. I just figured I might as well thank you for the chick you gave me yesterday."

Surprised, my lips relinquish their frown. Huh, so she can be nice. "You like her?"

"Oh I love her." She grins, taking a step further into my room, and closing the door behind her. "She's adorable."

I snort, almost wanting to smile. "Just curious… but what did you name her?"

"You know, I said earlier, curiosity killed the cat. "Jill chuckles softly. "But since you're not a car, I'll tell you. I named her Hatter."

"Hatter?" I raise an eyebrow at her.

She nods in response. "Yeah, as in, The Mad Hatter? From Alice in Wonderland? It's one of my favourite stories." She tilts her head slightly, her eyes focused on my face. "Or… you could take it in a different manor. I could call you Hatter because you always wear a hat."

I roll my eyes, but I catch her smiling. "Seriously, I'm really thankful for the chick. She's precious."

"Well, I'm glad you like her." I smile at her softly, loving the look in her eyes. "I really think you'll be good with animals.

She steps closer, leaning against my desk. "You know, I think I have your thing figured out." I raise an eyebrow, knowing what she means. "Yesterday, you said that there's on thing that people have a passion for that they do really well. You said Gannon's is carpentry, and mine is animals."

I don't say a word, my eyes locked on her face. "I think yours is being a mysterious and antisocial cowboy." I roll my eyes, feeling my heart thump against my chest at the idea that she thinks I'm mysterious. "Of it could be animals. You know, it could go either way."

"You're weird." I mutter softly, watching as she fiddles around in her pocket for a cigarette. I frown slightly, and she looks up at me, taking out a lighter. "You don't mind if I smoke, do you?"

"Actually, I do mind." I mutter softly, watching as she slips her cigarette and lighter away. I don't want to be reminded of smoking.

Jill shrugs her shoulders. "You don't like smoke?"

I shake my head. "No, I don't. I don't like the smell." The fire is another story though.

"You ever try it?"

"Smoking?" I raise an eyebrow, trying to act nonchalant. "Yes I have actually. And I didn't like it." Not true, but she doesn't need to know that.

She nods her head. "To each their own."

"So," I start, jerking my head towards her, changing the conversation. "Who's the letter for?"

Jill chuckles, shaking her head and tucking a strand of wet hair behind her ear. "Little nosy aren't ya?"

I don't say anything, pondering on if I should offer her dry clothes or not. She shrugs her shoulders. "It's for my best friend."

Ah, this mysterious best friend of hers. Still know nothing about this person. We lapse into a bit of an awkward silence, and I swallow nervously, keeping my eyes on the ground. Ah… awkward…

"You miss your mother?" She asks softly, the question out of nowhere. My jaw tightens, and I swallow hard, keeping my eyes on the floor.

"Yeah, I miss her."

There's a moment's pause, and I clench my fists, my stomach feeling all tight.

"You know she's in a better place now, right?"

I sigh, sitting up and running a hand through my hair. "I know, I know. I just… I could have stopped it."

I glance at her, a look of curiosity written all over her face. "You can't prevent death. It comes around to everyone."

My eyes narrow at her, glaring. "My mom was alone that day. My brother was out. She asked me if I wanted to stay home and bake some cookies with her for the afternoon. I refused, and instead went out to the bar for a drink. I came back, and she was dead." My eyes burn, self-loathing drilling a hole through my heart. "How is none of that my fault?"

She swallows hard, and I watch as she bites her bottom lip, her eyes off to the side. "It's not." She mutters the words softly, looking over at me with pain and loss burning in her eyes. "You think it is though. You go through all that self-loathing, doing anything to numb the pain, numb the guilt."

Jill wraps her arms around herself, staring off into space again. "You feel like you could have prevented it. If you'd changed one thing, maybe they'd still be alive." She swallows again, turning her eyes to look at him, that same haunted expression I saw before in her eyes.

"My parents died in a car crash. That day, I was frightened beyond belief. My parents couldn't understand what it was that I was so frightened of. They thought I was sick and hallucinating."

She swallows hard again, her eyes drifting away from me once again. "They left the house. They told me they'd go get some help. If I'd begged them a little more to stay home with me, they might still be alive." Jill stands up straight, a hard look in her eyes as she looks directly at me. "But they're not. They're dead. Squished into little pieces by the semi truck that ran through a red light to crash into their car. They're not coming back."

I watch, pity for her in my heart, as she grimaces. "Your mom's not coming back either. But it's not your fault. The same way my parent's death isn't my fault."

I stand up, empathy in my gaze as I look at her. "I'm sorry about your parents." I look at her; so sorry for the hardship she had to go through. No one should have to go through that; not alone. "I realize that my mom isn't coming back. I just wish… I wish there was some sort of way for me to do something to avenge her."

She closes her eyes, and I take a step forward. She really is beautiful. I do not remember the last time I felt this attracted to a woman. Maybe it's because we both have had hard lives, and the fact that she's sharing that with me makes me feel like she thinks I'm special.

"I don't think she'd want you to avenge her." Jill opens her eyes, looking up at me. "I think she would want you to accept her death and move on in your life. Stop blaming yourself and live for once."

I sigh softly, her words ringing in my head. "I know, I know. I just…" I look at her carefully, searching for some kind of understanding. "I don't want to let go."

She sighs, running a hand through her hair. "I know you don't. But… you have to try." She snorts, a soft smile crossing her lips. "Otherwise you'll end up like me. Bitter and alone."

_Live for once._ Her words echo in my head, even as sympathy fills my heart for her. I take a step closer to her, my eyes trained on hers.

"Jill," I start, taking a step closer to her. She's pressed right up against the wall, her eyes staring straight up into mine. "You don't have to be alone."

_Live for once._

Before I can think what I'm about to do through, I lean forward and press my lips firmly against hers. I raise my hands, tenderly cupping her face in my hands.

Her lips are cold, and the chill sends a shiver up my spine. Softly her lips press against mine, her lips yielding to mine.

"Take your gloves off." She whispers against my lips, her breath intoxicating. But the words seem in and my body freezes up, our lips still brushing against each other. "What?"

I drop my hands from her face, protecting them. How the hell does she know? "Why do you want me to take my gloves off?"

"Take them off." She whispers. I resist, trying to wrench my hands away, but somehow she manages to slip my gloves off.

My eyes wide with horror, I shove my hands in my pockets, hiding the horrible scars. I take a step back, glaring at her with fierce anger. "Give me my gloves back."

"Let me see your hands." She spits at me, the same revulsion from yesterday written all over her face.

"Why do you care?" I growl back, biting back the urge to scream her head off.

"Why do you care enough to hide them?" She retorts angrily, taking my gloves and hiding them in her back pockets.

What the fuck? What happened there? One second we're kissing, and everything is fine, and the next second she knows all about my self-abuse. There's no doubt in my mine that she knows. I just don't know how. I've never told anyone. Not even my own brother.

I clench my jaw, my eyes flickering over her face. She certainly isn't going to give me my gloves back unless I show her my hands. She's stubborn like that.

But… she's going to judge me. I know she is. I don't want her to think I'm some depressed psycho loser. I'm not. Honestly. I'm just a guy with problems dealing with his emotions. Ugh…

I swallow hard, and slowly pull my hands out of my pockets. I tilt my head towards the ground so I don't have to see her reaction. Slowly, I turn my hands so the palms are up, revealing the angry burn scars.

My eyes close, and I swallow hard. I didn't deal with my mother's death very well. But that stage of my life is behind me. The scars just haven't healed yet.

I take my hands away, slipping them back into my pockets. "May I have my gloves back please?"

She grabs them out of her pocket, tossing them in the air. I catch them and quickly cover up the scars, not wanting to disgust her. Glancing up at her, I wait for her to say something.

Jill doesn't say anything though, so I look straight into her eyes. "How'd you know about my hands? I've never told anyone about them…"

I watch as she swallows hard, turning her head to face the ground. Softly, I hear words pour out of her mouth. "Let's just say you're not the only one with a secret."

I swallow and take a step towards her, showing her I'm not upset with her. But her eyes widen in fear, and I notice she looks over my shoulder again, shooting an apologetic look. Before I can turn to look, Jill turns on her heels and flees my room.

A frown on my lips, I turn on my heels, looking behind me. But there's no one there. I glance back at the door Jill left through. A secret? What kind of secret does she have?

Sunday. One more day, and I get to go back to Sunshine Islands. I haven't been able to get Jill or that kiss we shared out of my mind. God damn it.

I should apologize at her for snapping like that last week. I didn't think the first thing she would say when I kissed her would be, "Take your gloves off." I wasn't prepared for that.

But still… how did she know that? She mentioned a secret… could that be the reason she knew about my hands? If so… what else does she know about me that she's not saying? Jill certainly asks me a lot of questions about my mother…. Is it possible that she knew my mother? No… I don't think so.

But then what is it? Does she know my brother? Can she read my mind or something? I have no idea. Maybe I should just ask her. I'll get nowhere if I just sit and ponder this forever.

I let out a deep sigh, slipping my hat off for a moment to run my hand through my hair as I walk down the sidewalk. A drink sounds like a good idea right about now. The sun is starting to set on the dismal city anyway, and I have nothing to go home to. Might as well get a drink.

Quickly, I slip into my favourite bar, my eyes widening in surprise when I see how many people are inside. Usually there are not this many people in here. I wonder what the special occasion is…?

Whatever. Not my business. I'll just go get my drink, and then be on my way. I thread my way around the people, making my way to the counter to order a drink.

Suddenly, something black catches my eyes. I blink and look a second time, my jaw practically dropping to the floor when I realize whom it is sitting at the bar.

It's Jill. But… it's not. It's Jill, but she's completely changed her appearance from rancher, to an elegant lady. Wow. She looks stunning. Her black hair falls all around her shoulders, framing her body, which is dressed out in a skintight black dress, cutting off above her knees and showing off her legs. The dress ties around her neck, dipping down her back to show off a ton of skin.

Her blue eyes seem to pop out of her face, and her skin is slightly flushed. There's a cigarette in her hands, but she still looks the picture of elegant.

Of course… while she looks absolutely stunning now… I have to say she turns me on much more when she's dressed like a cowboy.

I walk closer, finally noticing there's a silver chain around her neck. It's rather pretty.

Jill picks up a shot, downing it in one gulp. Gently, I tap her arm. After a moment's pause, I hear her cheerful voice. "Hello there Vaughn. What're you doing here?" She turns to look at me, throwing me a delightful grin.

"I'm always here Sunday night." I frown slightly; this is my favourite bar. Why is she in the city though? I slip into the seat beside her, my eyes still locked on her face. "What're you doing here?"

Jill turns, gesturing into the ground. I glance around, my eyes finally catching onto a brown-haired man in the crowd. "It's my best friend's bachelor party."

"Ah." I turn my eyes back to her. "I almost didn't recognize you."

She chuckles softly, taking another drag of her cigarette. "Is that a good thing?"

I snort, nodding my head at the bartender as he hands me my usual beer. "Very good thing." I look deep into her eyes. "You look beautiful." You always do.

I open my beer, taking a sip of it, and Jill takes another shot of whatever liquid is in that small glass of hers. She turns and looks at me, a tipsy grin on her face. I know a tipsy grin where I see one.

I glance down at her lips. Gods, I wish I could kiss her again. I don't really want to take advantage of her when she's drunk… but oh god that was an awesome kiss last week.

Jill raises an eyebrow at me, turning in her seat to face me completely, crossing her legs. "You want something?"

Do I want something? I want to kiss her. I want to know what her secret is. I want to know is she likes me, or if she's fooling around with me. I want to get over the death of my mother. But do I want something right now? No… I'm quite content just to be with her.

She frowns slightly at me. "I'm not going to save you and make it all alright."

"I wouldn't mind trying to save you." I stare straight into her eyes, matching her line. I've seen that terrified look in her eyes sometimes. I want to help her.

Jill chuckles softly, standing up. "How about you dance with me? And then I'll tell you what it's gonna be." She walks out onto the dance floor, tossing out her cigarette.

I stand up, threading my way through the crowd to follow her. The music is very loud; much louder than I'm used to it being.

When I'm standing near her, she holds up her hand and motions for me to step forward. "Come a little closer. I'm not gonna bite."

God, she's really flirty when she's drunk. But I step forward and rest my hands on her hips, my heart jumping in my chest as she dances as little close to me.

"I'd like to be your friend Jill." I mutter softly, trying to start somewhere. Put our relationship on some sort of stable ground.

She snorts, and I feel my heart drop into my toes. "I don't want the time to be your friend." The music blares around us, and I watch as she twists her body to the beat, her hip brushing against mine. "I can tell you now it's going to end."

I'm stuck in place, my feet planted into the dance floor. Jill turns to look in my eyes, a smile on her lips. "And don't think you can save me. There is no me and you." Oh god, I wish.

Suddenly, she moves a little closer, wrapping her arms around my neck. She presses her body close to my, and then whispers in my ear. "You down with that, I know what we could do."

I look down at her, my eyes glazing over her lips. God, I want to kiss her so much. But… she's drunk. And I haven't done anything like that in months.

She winks at me. "I don't mind pretending that you're mine." Then she leans forward, pressing against me, teasing me with how close her lip are to mine. "Just keep in mind, we'd never make it."

She giggles, spinning out of my arms, leaving me with an aching feeling deep in my chest, wanting her back in my arms. I watch as she dances amidst all these strangers, a shining light in her own way.

Jill throws me a grin, motioning for me to come closer. Dutifully, I walk towards her, receiving a wink for my troubles. "I won't bite. Promise."

I shake my head, looking down at her. "You're drunk."

"I am not." She pouts at me, looking terribly adorable. "I resent that. I am perfectly capable of holding my liquor." She giggles. "As for being buzzes…" She trails off, shrugging her shoulder, a grin still sticking to her face. "I plead guilty to that charge."

I simply stare at her. She pauses, taking a moment to look back into my eyes. _Fuck._ Oh... I shouldn't… damn, she looks so beautiful.

_Live for once._

Oh screw it. I take a step forward, grabbing her by her waist and pulling her close to me, sweeping her into a desperate kiss.

She wraps her arms around my neck, her fingers running through my hair. Ohh, god that feels good. I grip her waist tightly, pulling her tighter to me. I feel her tongue flick against my lips, and I gasp out, pulling out lips apart.

I look over me face for a moment, contemplating the issue. Put there's that look of desire shining in her eyes, and I cave instantly. I lean forward and press my lips to hers again.

You know those days when time seems to go really slowly? Or when time seems to go by so fast you wonder where the day went?

This night went like that.

The evening seemed to go by in flashes. I remember being on the dance floor, kissing Jill. I remember pulling her out of the club and hailing a taxi, being kissed more passionately than I ever can recall in that vehicle. I remember bringing her back to my apartment, still caught in that fit of passion. I remember bringing her to my bedroom, and making love to her.

I remember falling asleep with her in my arms.

So why is it that I wake up alone?

I close my eyes, groaning and banging the back of my head against the wall. No, no, no, no. I did not want a one-night stand. I was hoping I could talk to her in the morning.

I let out a deep sigh. God last night. Last night. I can't even find the words to describe it.

Okay… that's not true. I can think of seven words to describe it.

_I have fallen in love with Jill._

I throw my legs over the side of the bed, getting up and groggily rubbing my eyes. And I have to go to Sunshine Islands today. Good thing I woke up at a quarter after five in the morning. Otherwise I might have missed my boat.

I start to walk into the kitchen to get ready for the day, when my eyes catch on something. Confused, I walk to the foot of my bed, bending down to look at the object that caught my eye.

Gently, I pick up the silver chain Jill had around her neck last night.


End file.
